Feeling Faithless
by Lost1n7heDark
Summary: Post-Chosen. Basically, it's F/B, kinda angsty, mainly focused on Faith. It's long, it's drawn out, it's for people who have patience and an interest in all the details of other people's POVs, too. It gets better later on, so give it a shot. Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Characters? Not mine. I know, get over it.**

**Review please. **

Faith's POV

"Faith?" I make no movement at the sound of my name, and keep staring out the window. There's nothing much out there but the city lights in the dark. Out of the slight of courtesy I had left within me, I reply.

"Yea, B?"

"Remember when you...when **we** switched bodies? And we were fighting in the church?" I cringe inwardly, but I turn to face Ms. Golden Girl with a smile.

"Yea. Sorry about that, B. I didn't mean to pummel your face in." Sarcasm, but in a strange way, I meant it.

"I know." I say nothing. She pauses to look away, then gazes into my eyes.

"Because you weren't pummeling my face in." What?

"Well yea, but it was **you** inside my body."

"Exactly." Again, what?!

"What do you mean, exactly?" She's in front of me, toe to toe with that intense look on her face when she "means business". I'm thinking auto-defense mode by now.

"It was you." I don't like where this is going.

"Listen, B. I know we've had some rough times, but-"

"No. I mean that it was you. You didn't hit because it was me inside your body. That wasn't even considered inside your head, was it?" I freeze, I can't look at her, so I turn away. Still she goes on.

"You did it because you were looking at yourself. Weren't you, Faith?" I feel my heart skip a beat. Damnit.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"But you do," Her voice starts rising.

"You were screaming at me, telling me that I was nothing. That I was a murdering bitch. I thought about it for a long time, Faith. Then I realized you were just looking at yourself, screaming at yourself, judging yourself-"

"Shut up."

Her voice trails off. She lightly touches my arm and whispers hoarsely.

"...hurting yourself..." I choke back a sob. When the hell did I get this soft? I laugh; it sounds so bitter.

"So you think you've finally figured me out, huh, B? Think you've got it all down pat?"

"Faith-" I whirl around and face her with resentment.

"You don't know anything. You don't know jack about who I am. And you think trying to psycho-analyze me and making me feel like some child who lost her way is going to help that? Fuck no!" I didn't expect her to back down. I'd be worried if she did. And of course, she never seems to let me down.

"Well let me tell you something, Faith. You act like you're the victim in this situation; in **all** those situations, but you weren't and you aren't. And truth be told, you never will be. You're just afraid to accept responsibilities for your reckless actions, and you know it!" One must admit, she really never fails to tell the truth to a girl. I feel that old rage itching to bust over the top. I force it down through grit teeth.

"Buffy." She stops. I never call her by her name. Must be weird for her. Nothing new to me. I don't remember much about people, and demons, calling me by my name. Maybe a few.

* * *

_"Oh you little whore, I'm gonna enjoy this." The lovely stench of hard, cheap liquor. I'm ten years old again. I try not to think, I try to force my mind onto other things. Happier times. Moments in life where I felt alive?_

* * *

_I listen to the screams of my Watcher, my very first, those pleading and strong pair of eyes that made me freeze into position. I can hear his snarls; his laughter._

_"Once I am done with her, you will be next, Slayer bitch!" _

_"Run, Faith! Run!" Her last words, and I watched her die._

_"No!" I cried out, I rushed to her side and held her in my arms. How heavy it was._

* * *

I bring myself out of the flashbacks. She uses the time to form more words. 

"Faith, you don't even know how badly you hurt us. How you betrayed us, **used** us. You created mess after mess, and you think you're the victim here? That in some twisted way, **you're** the good guy after all?" I see that sarcastic, condescending laugh on her face.

"You are **sick**. We erased you from our past because we wanted to. But I guess until you're dead, you'll always come back, just to spice things up. Five by five, right? Just keep telling yourself you were needed. I thought you could be my friend, but I guess you surprised me. We never needed someone like you in our town." Oh how those words hurt. How they sting in just the right places.

"I mean, yea. We may have needed you in the beginning, but-" I can't stand it anymore. I can't. It's rushing through my body and as soon as I open my mouth, I know I can't stop it.

"You know why you guys needed me, then? Convenience. Isn't that right, B? Remember a little after I got into town? When Dog-boy needed someone to watch after him? Why use anybody important? We can just use the other slayer, right? We don't have to fill her in on anything, just use her. Forget that we never had her in any of our meetings, we just point and she'll do what we tell her, right? Even Joyce, B. She only liked me because I would be the only chance you could have gone to college and fulfilled her dreams of you being the perfect girl again. Isn't that all you needed from me, B? Or actually, isn't that all I was? Still am? A backup plan?" I take a moment to catch my breath, and of course, she feels the need to interject.

"That's not true. I, we, cared about you, gave you **all** the chances in the world to-"

"To what, B? To run? I don't remember anyone trying to stop me unless it was to blame me for the mess. And actually, I remember a certain someone **wanting** me gone, just in a more...permanent way."

"Faith-"

"Oh yea, B. The goodbye stab was great. We should do that again sometime. Real quality time. You made a smart remark that I would've done the same to you. Remember that, B? Would it surprise you if I told you why I never answered that directly? Because I wouldn't." I guess I hit a nerve. She jumped all over that.

"Yes you would've, Faith. Any of us. All of us. And especially me."

"See, B? Again with the not trusting bit. It was always there, and still is like that. I can feel the damn guard that everybody puts up around me. Even the fucking Potentials. I guess everyone can feel the "evil" inside me, huh, B? I went to kill Angel because I knew he could kill me. I would've gone to...well. **Back** to you to finish the job you started, but I figured at least he'd understand that part of who I was. Who I **am**. That at least he'd care when he killed me. But any of you, B, and I would've died without a single soul that cared."

I pause to take a deep, irritatingly shaky breath. Yea, I do have a larger vocabulary than is thought. I missed out on school, not on intelligence. I say what I say in short, I never take the time to say it the way I think it. But I'm straying. This has to end, something in my chest is killing me.

"So. Fuck you, Buffy 'Golden Girl' Summers. And your self-righteous, can-do-no-wrong bullshit. I know none of you really want me here, and now that the job's done, I'll be gone in the morning. That soon enough for you, B?"

I didn't want an answer, so I walked out of her room and towards my "room". Damn. Why is this hurting so bad? Oh wait. Now I remember. I clutched at my burning chest and I reach my door. I close the door and let myself collapse behind it, wondering if what I did was a good idea. Too late now. I said what I needed to say, and now it's time to leave. Fuck, I'm blacking out. Guess...I fucking...told her...


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Still don't own any of the characters. If I did, you be damn sure many of the events would've changed, and Faith would've been actively present throughout the whole damn show.**

**Reviews. **

Buffy's POV

I watched her walk out with my infamous Buffy-is-pissed face, but it hides what I'm thinking. If I could think at a moment like this, that is. I've never heard her go off like that. But then again, our conversations never end well, so why should I be surprised?

But I am anyways. Great. I finally finish the clean-up evil mess and I trundle right into a big old Faith mess.

"Couldn't just say, 'How ya doing', could you, Buffy?" I mutter to myself as I walk down the stairs. We're all hanging at Angel's place in L.A. Other than in public, I haven't talked to him much. Or made eye-contact, or anything else, really. I hear lots of talking, squealing, and what not. Potentials. Well, ex-Potentials, more like.

Willow looks concerned and tries to spit out a question that ended up in a paragraph.

"So, how did it go? I mean, I thought I heard some yelling, but I decided not to go up, because that would be intruding, and that's not good, I mean, as a friend, I want to give you your privacy, but I know Faith's a little bit antisocial-y and I was gonna, maybe, go on up, but I guess you're here now, so I wouldn't have to go up, unless you wanted me to-"

"Will." She stops open-mouthed and flushes. I smile tiredly.

"It'll be fine. Thanks." She returns the smile, and touches me lightly on the arm.

"Are-are you okay?" I sigh deeply. I should be feeling better, right? But I don't. I feel far from content.

"I'm just tired, Will. It's been a long week, fighting demons, and evil, hellmouth and whatnot. I think I'm just in need of a long, long rest." She nods at me, like a bobble-head.

"Of course! We've all had a rough time, it's been...long..." Her voice trails off as I watch Kennedy bounce on over to kiss Willow full on the lips. Feisty, and full of zest. Reminds me a little of Faith, but she's lacking a little something. Oh yea. That little **something** called evil.

I smack myself mentally. I know it's not fair to judge her, after she tried to make amends and helped us through all of this shit. It's just a little hard to forgive and forget, you know?

"Ahem. I-I do believe it would be a fine time for a bit of rest for you all. Since we seem to have, eh, done our job well, we'll not be having any early morning training. It's a-a free day for everyone." Giles is trying to keep control and be enthusiastic about not having to be responsible anymore. I'm not quite sure it will work, so I stand up beside him.

"Basically, guys. It's time to sleep, and do whatever you want tomorrow." Everybody cheers. But of course, what would a command be without Xander's input?

"Not, including, you know. Illegal stuff."

* * *

We're all running around, preparing for sleep. The authority figures got their own rooms, which didn't matter much to the girls, since the lobby was large enough for 5 times their number. I'm roaming in my room, tired, but no sleep. Nonfat yogurt isn't helping, not that it ever did. I just didn't know what to do. My argument with Faith was getting to me, though it really shouldn't have. I said some things that I should've held back, but I couldn't. It was just a time for open, blunt, honesty.

Fuck. Who am I kidding? I felt bad, no doubt about it. I mean, I had my reasons for saying what I did. They were all true. I meant it all. She deserved all of it.

Except...she didn't. Well, maybe she did. I don't know anymore. Apparently there are things that she's done for me that I didn't even know.

Xander came up to me once, telling me about the night of homecoming, how Faith had called Scott a sleazebag, and how she walked up to him and his date and humiliated him. Wesley told me all the details about Faith, and how much she pulled through for Angel. How she almost died just to get him back. I hear until she had to break out, her reputation in jail was clean, if you don't count the several times when she was attacked and had to defend herself. And Angel, well. I know that he really gets her. That he understands the inner workings of a killer. A really sick and in-need-of-assistance killer.

There I go again, with the mean thing. And even better, there was some jealousy involved.

"Ungh! Why can't I sleep?" Oh good. Now I'm talking to myself. Just sleep, Buffy. Sleep.

Eventually it works, because next thing I know, I wake up. And wow, it feels real good to know that I have no more Slayer duties. For the time being. But something's bugging me. I know something woke me. What...

"Um. Guys? Mr. Giles? Buffy? Ah..." A high-pitched yelp that meant Andrew. I relax a little. It can't be anything important. But I guess I should help him out anyways, whether it's to open a pickle jar for him or if I need to wipe his ass- Whoops. I guess I really should work on my thoughts.

I hear Giles groaning, and Xandar's definitely not up until noon. Willow and Kennedy were at it before I went to sleep, so I assume they're either still occupied, or in deep slumber. Ah well. It's my burden to be young, female, and single.

I changed into a tank and jeans, and open the door.

"What, Andrew?" He's standing a little down the hallway, and he's stammering like something's really spooked him. I step towards him.

"Andrew? What's going on?" He looks at me, then down at his feet, then points.

"Is there a reason for the blood leaking from beneath this door?" I glance down. Shit. A large puddle of blood is staining the white tile. Whose room...

"Faith!"

I run.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't feel the need to continue disclaiming these characters for the next however many chapters there will be, since I already did for the last two chapters, but oh well. So. In case it wasn't made clear beforehand, I definitely do not own these characters. And yes, there will be more, in case some of you think this is the end.**

**Thanks for the reviews. More are appreciated. **

I open the door to find a completely unconscious Faith, in the same clothes since I last saw her. I'm assuming she never really made it past closing the door behind her after our conversation. It didn't look like there was a wound, so where was the blood coming from?

"What in the world is going on?" Giles looks disheveled, and less than himself. I see Willow and Kennedy poke out from behind their door.

"I don't know. But Faith is hurt and we need to get her medical attention. Now!" I'm trying to lift her up, and suddenly I feel someone near me.

"There's an infirmary in the building downstairs. I'll take her. Just get Willow, and hurry!" Angel sweeps her up like she's made of cloth. He's rushing. I have no time to feel jealous. I gather Willow, who didn't bother changing out of her pajamas, and get Andrew to start cleaning up the blood. He made a face at me, but he knew I wasn't joking.

* * *

"What's going on?"

"Is Faith gonna be okay?"

"How could this have happened?"

"How bad is it?"

Voices, voices, all around. I block them out and try to stay focused. It's rather difficult, however, when a crowd of people is surrounding a cot where your closest enemy is lying, bleeding away to nothing. Just saying.

There was no visible wound from outside the clothing, so Angel ripped open her shirt, revealing the answer. And some major cleavage. It's kind of hard for me to look away, and I can tell most of the others feel the same way. Same sex or not, Faith has always had a nice body.

It was some wooden shaft that had still been stuck inside, although her skin must've healed over it just a day before. But it was pierced through her lungs, and with every breath she'd taken, it shifted. Now it was resting its splinters inside her heart, and the enchanted side of it (oh yes, more magic) had been burning through the bodily material around it, including the flesh, and I could smell it. It explained the excessive amount of blood. I feel a slight twinge of fear.

"She's been lying there for hours, is she gonna make it?" I look to Willow, who, with the help of Fred, was hopefully conjuring up a cure.

"I don't know, Buffy. I haven't ever seen a wound like this, or even a weapon. I'm just making basic healing potions. I suggest somebody performs an operation. We need to get that thing out quick. It's burning through her body like...like..."

"Like hellfire." Says Xander, as we listen to the almost inaudible hissing sound of flesh. Jesus. I'm hearing fear in everybody's voice. And worse, I'm hearing uncertainty.

Angel returns from making a call to a doctor friend he knows, and doesn't hesitate to pull up a chair near the bed and takes hold of her hand. His face is full of concern.

I hate it.

Wesley is pacing back and forth, clenching and unclenching his fists with anger.

I hate it.

Kennedy walks over and strokes that beautiful dark hair lightly, murmuring little nothings into her ear.

I hate it.

I see the way Connor looks at her still face. I remember the way his eyes lit up when she walked in the room the other day.

I hate it.

Even Willow brushes strands of hair from the still face and looks worried.

God. I hate it.

And I'm just standing here, at the edge of the bed doing nothing. Just staring at her face, her breasts, her wound, and back to her breasts, then to her face again.

So still, so calm. We were yelling at each other not even a day ago, I think. I may dislike you, Faith, but don't you dare go without knowing that I don't hate you, damnit.

The doctor arrives - female, if you must know - she took a quick look at the wound, asked a few questions, and asked for a thermal x-ray. I'm not big on medical technology, but I'm pretty sure everybody understood what it was. Lorne and Connor push the bedcot towards another room connected to the room we were in now. Pretty high-tech, even for Angel, but there are always needs for the job his team does. The two return and wait with the rest of us, while the doctor does her thing. It takes an hour or two.

"How long ago did this wound occur?" She asks, closing the door behind her. She's looking over her glasses, straight at Angel. He glances at me.

"From what I know, Jane, it's supposedly from two days. Fight with the First and all." He tells her. She sighs and shakes her head, plopping herself down in a chair.

"Well, data says otherwise." Everyone starts speculating, yelling, arguing, talking. Jane - Dr. Jane - raises her hand and motions us to quiet down.

"Listen, I'll show you the x-ray screening tests I performed. I took more than one, I wasn't sure if I had made a mistake the first time, but I'm pretty sure the other one proves I didn't." She goes into the dark room and I hear her clicking on a few buttons. The screen in the main room reveals the x-rays side by side. Blue dead, yellow normal, orange feverish, red burning. Nobody is particularly enthused by what we see.

I see a massive amount of red tearing through her body, and orange bordering it. And a bit of yellow bordering all that. But the frightening of all we were looking at, is the blue. I see spots of blue in the center of the red, where the wound had deeply punctured her body. Even worse, as the x-rays progressed, the mass spread further along Faith's x-rayed silhouette. I hear Dawn stifling a cry. After we all get a good look, Jane begins to speak.

"It may have been from the fight, yes. But something like this...You see how fast it's progressing? These are only 15, 20 minutes apart. At the beginning, it may have been slow, but the momentum's building. It's much too powerful to have not killed her in less than a day. This had to have happened sometime last evening. This is more than serious. If we don't find something to help her, she dies within-" She pauses to look at her watch.

"Within two hours." Willow bites her lip and whispers something to Fred. They both rush out of the room. Getting more books, I'm assuming. But that's the least of my worries. Actually, I don't even know what my worries are.

"My god." I hear Giles whisper hoarsely. He takes several people to go research for anything about this sort of magic, and a cure. Jane goes back to Faith, locking herself in to operate the splinters and the wood out of the body. The rest of us are busy making room for Fred's books and materials, as she returns armful by armful.

An hour later, Jane returns, her face beaded with sweat. She pulls out a cart from behind her, metal trays lining the top. They all had alcohol sloshing at the bottom, one held utensils, another held bloodied rags, and the last one held the wooden splinter and the shaft itself, Faith's blood mingling with the alcohol. The sterile smell wafts over the room as she pushes the tray with the weapon towards Fred.

"This is all I could get out without killing her. See if it helps." She sighed audibly as she slumped into a chair, and rested her head on her hands. Everybody returned promptly and Giles held onto his book.

"A magical poison used to burn away the flesh, requiring a complex number of ingredients. This would've taken the whole morning to make, and I know that everybody was accounted for. So unless some other being managed to burst in and attack Faith without our knowledge, I don't understand how it could've occurred." Jane stood up; she didn't look very happy.

"The thing is, if that had happened and she decided she didn't want to tell you about this...attack, then she must've tried to pull it out herself. But the shaft looked as though it was broken, and the girl's not stupid. She knows how to take something out without breaking it." Angel opens his mouth to speak, and his voice is strained.

"So you're saying, that this was no attack? That what's happening to Faith now, is what-"

"She did to herself." Willow emerges from the back. Apparently, not everybody had been present. She brings out a bottle of fiery red liquid and a broken shaft.

"I found this in Faith's room. I-I remembered noticing that some of my ingredients had been missing, and that Giles had-had 'misplaced' a book earlier. She must've worked on this yesterday morning, and-and...and..." She couldn't finish her sentence. I had to grab at the counter to keep myself steady. I closed my eyes, but that just brought on the flashback.

* * *

_"...I know none of you really want me here, and now that the job's done,**I'll be gone in the morning.** That soon enough for you, B?" She turned to walk away. Her hand reached up to clutch at her chest before she closed the door behind her...  
_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I feel obligated to tell you that I don't own them, even though I've already mentioned this.**

**Thanks for the reviews, they are always appreciated. Bring it on.**

* * *

"Buffy?" Everybody turns to stare at me. I don't know what to say. What to do. I try to feel angry, but I can't.

"I don't know...I..."

"I do. Just make the damn cure and save her!" Connor burst angrily. He never liked magic, that was made obvious enough.

"But Connor, we don't even know if we have that kind of time!" Fred cries out.

"I don't care! We have to do something, we can't just stand here!"

"She wanted to die, let her die." I hear my voice spitting out bitter words. Again with the staring.

"What?" Wesley sputters.

"I said, it was her choice. So just let her die. I don't care. Why should I care? She ruined my life, your lives, almost killed half of us. And she's almost dead anyways. Just let her die." I can't believe what I'm saying. What the hell am I saying?

"I don't know if you're plain crazy, or just a bitch. But seeing how calm you are, I'm just gonna go with the bitch thing." Gunn remarks angrily. I turn to face him.

"Well seeing that you don't even know who I am, or what she's done to me, I don't think you have the right to say anything at all." Somebody pushes me over with two strong hands, and I roll over to dodge a kick. Kennedy straddles me and starts to punch my face. I don't see anybody really trying to stop her. Even Willow's too shocked to do anything, though I doubt she could've helped me any. Or wanted to. I throw her off and give her a good spin kick. She spits at me.

"You think you are so great? You think you can just judge who gets to live and who doesn't? Who the fuck are you? You're not the one and only Slayer anymore, so I think whatever you say shouldn't even be put into consideration, bitch!" I aim to punch, but another hand stops me. Angel's teeth are grit and he tightens his grip on my wrist.

"Buffy. I need to talk to you. Outside. **Now.**" I pull my arm away and leave. He follows me out.

"So what is it this time, Buffy? Jealous now that people aren't all about you anymore?" He's angry. At me.

"Back off, Angel. Everything I said in there was true, and you know it." This back-talking is probably going to lead me down somewhere not so well.

"Ever since you saw her again, you've been nothing but hostile. Every single time. I've seen the way you reacted when you saw her. I've heard about the things you've said, the way you treated her when she went back to Sunnydale to help you. She didn't have to, Buffy. She could've stayed here, or run off whenever she wanted to. But she didn't. I don't know the exact reason for why she did this to herself, Buffy, but I'm gonna go ahead and say you're probably a **damn** good part of it." He slams the door as he walks back into the room. I'm in the lobby, and assuming I probably shouldn't go back in.

I need to think, anyways.

* * *

Upstairs, I pace. I sit on the bed. Then I get up to pace some more. And for some reason, I head out the door and towards Faith's room. The blood is gone, but the room is still a mess. She never did tidy up well. Then again, I figure Willow had been searching the room for the attempted suicide weapon. Soon-to-be real suicide weapon. I sit on her bed, tracing the wrinkles in the blanket with my fingers. I can smell her scent in the room, in the bed. Then it happens. 

It hurts, it hurts so much. I feel nothing but pain, and all I can do is curl up and cry. It feels so hopeless, and I know that no matter what, I can't help her now. I can't take back the words I said, no matter what she'd done, she'd never said things to me that dug deep. Things that broke my heart. Like I did to her.

The look on her face when I called her a loser. When I told her that we wanted to forget about her. When I told her that I was better than she would ever be. Oh god, it hurts. I remember the things that I said, and it hurts more than I could've ever imagined. No wonder. No wonder she fell apart.

I cry myself to sleep, in Faith's bed, wishing more than anything that she would be okay. That no matter what I'd said, I really wanted her to be alive and with me.

* * *

I wake up in the morning and I have no idea where I am. Then I smell it. Her blood. It hits my senses and I shudder, remembering the night my hands shoved the knife into that beautiful stomach of hers. Unrelenting. Oh, I remember. And it pisses me off. I don't want to remember any of that. I don't want to know that I remember the stench of her blood overwhelming my mind. But it relieves me of the fact that I can't just smell her scent unharmed. It tells me that I don't care about her person, just that I tried to kill her. And that can be easily remedied. Right? 

I go downstairs for some coffee, and the stares are aggravating. Most avoid me, others pierce. Kennedy, for one, is sitting up on the counter crunching on toast, glaring at me with dark eyes, just telling me how much she wants to hurt me. I hear Giles walk in, and am relieved. I turn to speak.

"How is she, Giles?" He looks at me funny, surprised I'd ask such a question out of concern, but replies nonetheless.

"In a bit of a jam, I'm afraid, Buffy. Willow and Fred managed to heal the burns, but it'll be more than tricky reviving the dead tissue and organs. Dreadful, really." He shakes his head while absent-mindedly pouring his tea. Others come in and out, picking up what they can find in the fridge, none of them greet me, but that doesn't faze me. I'm just dwelling in my relief.

She's alive still. I figured she would be; my Slayer senses never failed me before, hasn't now. I knew she was still here. The tug of our bond was weak, and grew weaker by the minute. It scared me. To feel each ragged breath taken in, a scathing embellishment of the pain she was feeling. Of course, **I** don't care. I'm just glad for the sake of the others. It wouldn't matter at all to me if she was dead or not. And yet here I am, my feet moving slowly towards the infirmary. It seems I have it set that I'm going to visit my most dangerous enemy. **Not** out of care, mind you. Just to...keep myself occupied. That's it.

I see several others in there with her. Angel, Jane, and Wesley are speaking seriously inside another room adjacent to this one. Willow and Fred are concocting some more healing potions to treat the burn, while Connor sat beside the bed burning invisible holes into Faith's face. My eye involuntarily twitched when I saw his hand gently holding onto hers. The IV stuck out like a sore thumb. Her torso had been bandaged, and it seemed like her face never changed. I tried to read the expression. Frustrated, in pain, and...regretful?

He saw me when I walked through the door and his jaw clenched. I subtly opened my hands beside me, at least to let him know I wasn't going to try anything while I was here. Willow and Fred froze, and I hear the voices in the other room hush as I step closer.

"Can I get a moment?" I don't know where the words come from, but there they were. They all hesitate, and I feel frustrated as I explain myself.

"Listen. I'm not going to do anything stupid. I just want some alone time." Fred lowers her head and silently nods and walks out. Willow gazes at me intently for a moment, then moves over to Connor, slightly tugging at him to go with her. He glares at me, but I don't back down. Then he lets go of Faith's hand and slowly follows Willow out, and I feel his eyes never leaving me. The other three continue talking in hushed tones, but I know they're glancing at me through the window.

I sit, and just stare the face I hated, no, **still hate** so much. I will her eyes to open and glare right back at me, but my mental willpower isn't enough.

"I hate you." I whisper. She says nothing. She does nothing. She's just so damn still, and it's pissing me off.

"I hate you for everything you did." Still silence.

"I hate you for everything you said." Nothing.

"I hate you for...**Damnit!** I hate you!" My voice went from whisper to loud. I almost jump when I see her right eye twitch.

"Faith?" I want to strangle myself for that tone. It was pleading, begging for something. For anything.

I'm not sure what saying her name did, but her body jerks, and I jump up from the chair. It continues to jerk, and suddenly her body goes into violent spasms, and I don't know why I never heard the monitor screaming. Most likely because I was screaming for somebody to get in here, to help me, to help her, as I tried to hold her arms down. The three in the other room burst in, and I hear more people rushing in from all doors. Jane reaches for something and shouts at me to hold her body down, no matter what. She grabs at the IV cord and injects something into it, and in a few minutes, the spasms slow down. But her body still jerks, and her mouth opens slightly, making painful grunting noises, and once in a while, a whimper. I'm frightened out of my wits, but I hardly want any of these people to know that, and I just wipe the sweat off my forehead and sigh.

Everybody is tense and waiting, moving all their activities into this one room, hoping to be closer to Faith. I watch as they make food, read books, listen to music, practice spells, etc. I watch as they whisper amongst each other, laugh nervously, but mostly I'm watching Faith's face. Just as I see many of the others doing. I feel exposed, almost dirty, for Faith, and I want to block their views with my body, but that's silly.

Silly, because why should I be jealous of that? Of course they can look at her face. I don't want to see it. I hate her, remember? I don't care, and I'm sorry she didn't just die overnight. But that's even more silly, because I know it's not true. I know I didn't want that to happen, but it's easier to wish my problems away than to deal with them, and my problem right now is Faith.

Sudden noise whips my head around to stare some more at the patient. She's mumbling words softly under her breath, but I can't make them out. I scoot my chair closer and lean in to listen.

"...just...needed...mom...**mom**..." My brows furrow as my hand tightens into a ball.

"...no...please...b..." I freeze when I hear the word. The nickname she made for me.

"...are...ever...take it out...?" Her hands start to twitch again, and when we all hear the choking gasp, she clutches at a spot on her stomach and moans with pain. It isn't where the present wound is, and I feel concerned when Jane unwraps the bandage. I hold back a cry when I see it. A pale pinkish scar, long and deep, runs vertically on her flat stomach. Her hand continues to clutch at it, her nails digging into the scar, as if trying to tear it out of her body. I can't look anymore, I turn away and close my eyes.

But that doesn't even help; I just remember the look in her eyes when she gazed into mine, so helpless, so lost, so frightened, so...**relieved**.

* * *

_"You did it...You killed me." I don't even pay attention to anything else she says, I just watch, eyes wide, as she steps on the ledge to let herself fall away. Down, down, down. I wanted to cry out, 'NO!', but I remember my hate overwhelming my shock. _

* * *

Damn you, Faith, I think in my head. Damn you. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** **Still no owning of characters.  
**

**Thanks for the reviews! Keep them coming! **  


Faith POV

I'm awake. No wait. I'm asleep. Fuck. What am I?

In another world, I can feel my body hyperventilating, trying to take from the world some air to keep me going, but something in my lungs...burning...

"Clear!" I feel a jolt and my body feels numb. I can breathe again, but after a few breaths it's happening again. Damnit, this burning. But it's nothing compared to the sharp jagged touch of steel dragging against my flesh. I'm trying to find it stuck in my stomach, but I can't feel it anywhere. I try to scream, but the only screaming is happening in my head.

_Get it out! Get it out!_

Oh god. It hurts so fucking bad. Make it stop, oh god, make it stop. I swear I'll never ask for anything else, just please, make it stop.

"Faith!" My name. Faith. Yes, that's right. I try to focus on that over the pain. My name is Faith. Faith is my name. Faith. Faith. Faith. You gotta have Faith.

"Faith!" Exactly. My name. Faith. Faith. Faith.

"Oh my god, help her!"

"Hold her still!"

"Clear!"

* * *

I slam back into reality, but I don't trust myself to open my eyes. I can feel the pain, but it's not as horrible as it was. Sweat is soaking the soft sheets I'm lying in, and I can smell...fire. Burning. And now I know where it's coming from. From me. I remember everything. But I don't want to think about it right now. I feel my body still jerking, even though I try to keep myself still. I'm tense. Way tense. I'm pretty sure anyone could be able to tell, but I'm a pretty good actress. I doubt anybody out there knows I'm not out.

Oh. Right. Now I really remember where I am. Angel and company's place. In L.A. With the Scooby Gang and their bag of bullshit. And I am...I take a minute to assess my situation. The sound of monitors beeping, the feel of an IV stuck in my veins, the smell...no, the **stench** of sterile equipment and the sweat of the whole group mingling in the air. Okay. I could be wrong, but I figure I'm in Angel's infirmary, somebody found me lying in a pool of my own blood, and now they've been trying to keep me from going over the border of life and death. It all may be in the wrong order, but I know I've got a pretty good idea of where I'm at.

Damnit. I was supposed to be dead by now. Can't even keep a promise to B. I laugh to myself, weakly. I can't stand it anymore. I need to get out, I'm dying to get out. My body is aching, I feel so damn tired of living, and they just had to bring me back. And I was in such a nice place, too.

Okay. That was a lie. So sue me.

"Well. She's stabilized." A voice I didn't recognize spoke from the left side of me. A doctor, I'm assuming again. Well, this is pretty interesting. I don't know why I've never tried this whole pretending to be asleep thing before. I could've gotten away with so much shit.

"It's been a tough day, guys. Giles, Wesley, Jane, and I will take turns watching. The rest of you might as well just go relax, have some fun. We'll update you on her situation later. She'll be fine." Give me a moment to enjoy this warm fuzzy feeling inside. Good old Angel.

"I'd like to take watch, too." My heart skips a beat. I'll be damned if I don't die under your watch, B, I think to myself. You'll probably kill me yourself. I can sense somebody near me feel the same way, and the tension in the room knocks up a bit. Angel's voice is grating and angry.

"After the way you reacted yesterday, Buffy, I'm surprised you're in the room at all." I wonder what she said. Probably said she wanted me to die, and that I deserved everything I get. The bitch. Whatever. Not like it matters to me at all.

Alright. I know. I'm lying again. It hurts, to think she may have said it. With no qualms, I'm sure. I don't know why, we've never got along fully, even before I went psycho on all of them. But it does hurt. I should be used to it by now. I'm sure almost everybody I once knew before my reformation wants me dead. Or maybe just Buffy. Who knows. Oh yea. **I** do.

"I'll watch her last tonight, Angel. I won't do anything stupid." I hear her leave the room. Is it me, or did the room just get colder? Angel sighs, and he sets it up so that every 2 hours, they'll swap. Until night. Buffy gets night shift tonight. Great. A whole night with Buffy the Good Slayer. The eager-to-stab-Faith-in-the-gut Slayer. Whoopee. I am so excited, I'm just about to burst. Really, I want to scream. I refuse to let the girl touch me. Yes, I'm sorry for everything I did, everything I said, but by god, if she tries to kill me, I will scream bloody murder. I **refuse** to die like this. If I die by her hand, I will die fighting, damnit.

I calm myself down. I'm being a little girl, freaking out about B. I don't even know why I'm freaking about being alone in a room with her. I know I could take her. Well, maybe not in a situation like this, but I'm sure I could cause enough commotion to get somebody down here to get her off my case. I try reasoning with myself. Making plans on how to react if she tries anything threatening.

* * *

I shift from the living world to the world of dreams and nightmares throughout the day, attempting to stop myself from mumbling, but can't. Every time I wake up, my senses pick up on changes in the room. Who's watching, doing what, where, and why. I remember telling Robin once that I'm good at reading people, too, and I wasn't lying. I can feel their emotional state, their vibes towards me. What I felt...relieved me of so much.

First watch was Jane. The doctor, I presumed. I could smell the perfume, the soft skin when she smoothed out the blanket over me. Her touch was much more sensitive than a man's, and her views towards me? Well. I didn't get much more than pity, and worry. I could hear her tapping away on a distant keyboard, computers around the room reacting. Once in a while, she'd give out a deep sigh and check how I was doing.

When I woke up next, Giles was there, sipping his Earl Grey, and reading (from what I could smell) a musty old spellbook. He would mutter to himself, about something or another, and scribble down notes while working. Sometimes he'd pause and I could feel his gaze on me, and a sense of regret and sorrow would wash over me like a wave. I could almost hear him apologizing for everything, for never being there for me like he was for Buffy. For letting me fall into the love and care of the Mayor, and not being a father figure to me as good old Richard Wilkins III was to me. God, I wanted to cry like a baby. But that's for...babies.

Wesley came to relieve him, and he was working on some files and cases that were presently occupying the Angel gang. He didn't mutter, he downright spoke to himself out loud. A couple of times, he came up beside me and spoke to me softly. Promising that everything was going to be okay. That he was sorry for the words he spoke when we were looking for Angelus. That he didn't mean it, and that he probably deserved the torture he got from me when I first arrived to L.A. I almost got up and punched the ponce in the bloody face. None of them should be apologizing to me. I sunk into a pit of remorse. Then Angel walked in.

He just paced. That's all the damn vamp did. Paced. It was harder to get anything from him, he was dead, after all. But I knew he was worried. I knew he cared, and I knew he wasn't going to give up on me. And I knew...

"Don't die on me, Faith. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." Say what? If he starts confessing his undying love for me, I might just die of embarrassment. In my...non-sleep. I twitch, and he stops pacing for a moment.

"You've been there. You know the darkness, and I did all I could to bring you out. I'm proud of you, Faith. You...you did it. But this? You didn't have to do this." He starts his pacing again. I feel there's something he wants to say, but not to me.

"I'll never forgive her, Faith. For abandoning you yesterday. For **pushing** you further into a place she tried so desperately to pull me out of." I don't need the name to tell me who "she" was. Fuck. It hurts me again. I heard the story. The whole suicide thing Angel wanted to do, and how Buffy stopped him. Because she loved him, I thought. But why would she want to save someone like me. Someone she hated. Someone she still hates. And it hurts so much worse than I want it to. It shouldn't matter so much to me what she thinks, right? But it did. And it does.

I feel myself shudder involuntarily when the door opens. Right on time. I hear her say hello to him. I hear him say goodnight to her. He leaves. Shit. I'm fully awake, and my senses are screaming for me to run. To get the fuck out of there. She sits down in the chair near me. And I know she's not planning on moving. I just hope she falls asleep sooner or later.

She let out a deep sigh next to my ear. I'm pretty sure my eyelid twitched.

"The moment you die, I will beat your body to a pulp, Faith." Excuse me? I can't believe what I just heard.

"I hope that wherever you are in that head of yours, you can hear me when I say this loud and clear. I. Fucking. Hate. You." Well thanks, B. I love you, too. Bitch. I want to strangle her with my IV cord. I guess I wasn't paying enough attention to her emotions as I did to the words she spoke and the way she said them, because after a second, I hear her crying softly. It feels like a bulldozer dropped the ball onto my head a couple times and then some. B? Crying? No, it couldn't be. I must be imagining this.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you for making me feel like this. Do you even know how much you hurt us? How much you hurt...**me**?" Yes. I know. I felt the pain more than you did when I made the choices. I couldn't be like you, B. Had to choose the alternative. Be the bad one of the two.

"But if you die on me like this. I swear to god, I'll never ever forgive you, Faith." I know she hears the ragged breath I draw in as something catches in my throat. Does that mean she could forgive me if I wake up? If I...don't die? She sits up straighter. And closer.

"I don't know, **why** I'm feeling like this. But I can't take it anymore. I keep forcing myself to hate you, to despise you, but this goddamn feeling inside me, telling me to..." She stops herself. A rush of emotion courses into me, and I don't know how to feel. It's intense, it's tearing at me, and my chest starts to burn. But the real pain is on the scar I feel pulsing under the sheets. I can feel the dagger run into me again and again and again. I feel my body starting to jerk again. I hear her get up quickly, and she holds onto my arms. I chant in my mind, trying to get my body to relax, and it works. Kind of. It's enough for her to let go and sit down again. She says nothing more. I dwell on her words, and the clashing of her emotions. Then I feel it. The **hunger**. And even more, the **need**. The **want**. The thing that pushes me to act.

"...B...Buffy..." I murmur, so softly, I know she couldn't catch it clearly. I can almost see her second-guessing herself, wondering if she really heard what she did. So she tenses. I wait until she relaxes.

"...dunno what...to do..." Again. She lifts herself up from the chair and leans over me, trying to hear what I was saying.

"...please...help me..." I'm barely making a sound, but I know she can feel the sounds resonating in the air like an orchestral concert. Her head leans in closer, and closer. I feel her breath on my skin, and her hands on either side of my head, supporting herself from falling onto me.

"Faith?" She whispers quietly. I open my eyes.

My eyes hit her gaze immediately, and hers widen with surprise. She tries to back away in embarrassment, but my hands are too fast. I grip her by the neck and hair and pull her lips to mine. My eyes close again, and I wonder about my actions as she stiffly tries to pull away at first, but then she finally lets go. And when she does, it's the most amazing feeling in the world.

Her lips are soft, supple, sensitive. But at the same time, the release of pent up anger, hurt, and **need** forces itself through her to me. They are giving, but greedy. I didn't realize I had been holding my breath until she breaks away taking in precious gulps of air. The IV originally meant to be in my hand had fallen out, the hollow needle dripping slowly on the floor. She's still leaning awkwardly over the bed, and my head's spinning even though I've had it on a pillow. I had meant to kiss her lightly, but I could feel that **something** inside of her snap and the passion had taken over. No big deal, right?

_**It was only a kiss.**_

I look at her face, and I'm not sure whether to laugh or be concerned. She looks freaked out, and ready to bolt. My cocky humor takes over the situation. My eyebrows go up and I flash her a smile.

"So...you miss me, B?" I still don't know what she's gonna do, but she manages to relax. Her face goes into a blank expression, where everything is completely under what I call, "Buffy Control". I'm slightly disappointed, but I won't give her the satisfaction of knowing that I am. Which means I'll probably do something really stupid. Like get up. Like I'm doing now.

Whoops. My legs buckle beneath me and I fall onto the tile. Now I'm embarrassed, but more hurt that she didn't try to break my fall. I know she saw it coming. But I push down the hurt. If I can feel her emotions, I'm sure she can feel mine. So I do what I don't normally do. I stay down. I didn't move, I just lay there like a rag doll, taking ragged breaths. I don't even worry about the emotional hurt as I do with the physical hurt, which was very much hurting right about now. My chest throbbed and threatened to burst into flames if I didn't stay still. So I did. I couldn't move.

"F-Faith?" I could hear her shifting uneasily, as if worried I'd hurt myself. Well no shit, B. You expect letting me fall onto a tile floor in my condition was gonna have me up and going in no time? I let my anger rise, and allowed her to feel it. She stepped back, and said nothing.

That's right, B. I don't care how much you've changed, you'll never have the rage inside you that I do.You'll never feel it the way I do, or need it the way I need it. A torrent of darkness crash into my vision, and I know if I don't get help, I'll die. Just when I thought I was getting better.

"Faith?" Her voice is stronger, full of concern. I tried to get up, but I crumple down again with a yelp. I couldn't do it. I know I can't push her away now, when I needed help.

"Buffy!" I cry out hoarsely, then I feel myself lifted from the body. But I'm still in it. Just limp, helpless, and so ridiculously out of it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Characters Not mine**

**Hello. Where are my reviews? Hmm? You just wait til I stop writing. Then you'll be sorry! Review!**

Buffy's POV

"Buffy!" I hear her voice call out to me, bringing me out of my trance. I wonder if she felt the blood that began to gather below her. I kneel, trying to figure out some way I could make this work. I lift her slowly, and stop once I hear a moan escape those beautiful lips. I mean, her lips. I set her down as gently as possible, and fumbled with the IV for a bit before I decided not to touch it. What could I do other than to call Angel down? So I did.

When he got here, he brought the other Faith watchers. Jane took one look and had me help her re-bandage the wound, replaced the IV and gave me something to sleep on tonight. By that, I mean a pillow. They all look at me.

What? No, I didn't do anything to her. She awoke, tried to get up, and fell. Well, I couldn't react fast enough to catch her, I was...in shock. I'm sorry. I know. I'm sorry. Wait, how bad? How long? No, I'm not tired. Yes, I can manage. Yes, I'll give you a call when I need help again. **If** I need help again.

I watch them leave haltingly, and I just slump down into the chair again. Time to dwell. To think.

I could feel her emotions running when her eyes opened. Lust. Desire. And something else i couldn't place when our eyes met. It was somebody else she was thinking of. I just knew it. But to my embarrassment, my humanity released me into her lips through mine. I felt a cold shiver down my spine while I remembered every detail, and remembering loving every second of it. Those lips were better to the touch than it was just to look at them. Full, pouty, luscious. It was all human desire, I tell myself. Nothing else. I am positive I was thinking of Spike when it all happened. And I'm sure she was thinking I was someone else. I feel a twinge of jealousy, but I swallow it down.

I'm...I'm only angry because...Because she doesn't deserve to be loved. That's what it is. And her thinking of somebody who might want her is laughable. They don't. I know they don't. Who could love a girl like her?

I'm just assuring myself into sleep. Into a dream.

* * *

I'm in a gym. Full lotus position, relaxed and alert at the same time. I stand up and stretch. I hear grunting noises behind me, and there she is. Her back is turned to me, her fist flying in the bag in front of her, as well as her kicks. She stops suddenly, as if feeling my eyes lingering on her body, panting unrestrained. She pulls off her gloves, and one of them drops to the floor. As she bends over and my eyes travel from her shoulders to her...I shake my head. What am I doing?

"It's okay, B. Even straight girls can't resist **this** ass." She laughs at the blush in my face. She had turned to face me. I feel a lump in my throat.

Her face. No makeup. Cuts and bruises mark her face. That beautiful face.

"Isn't it funny how things work, B? All these people who want to kill me, who tried to kill me, and none of them succeeds?" She's laughing again, but I feel frozen, I want to tell her that it wasn't that I wanted to kill her, it was just that I needed to. I needed to for-

"For the one you love, oh so fucking very much." Her smile doesn't reach her eyes, and nobody needs to explain the rage that I feel rushing over me through our connection.

"Explain it again to me, B. Tell me more about this **love**." She steps closer to me, and her eyes bore into mine.

"Tell me how it **really** works. Is it all butterflies in the stomach and the works? Or is it all about the touchy feely-ness that gets you going on the love rant? Honestly, B. **Enlighten** me. I wouldn't know about it. It's all a strange concept to me. I know about anger. I know about pain. I know about betrayal. I know about hate. Is it really just the opposite of hate, B? Love?" She tilts her head slightly, some strands of hair falling across her face. I instinctively reach to brush them away, but her hand reaches up to grasp mine. Her voice is suddenly full of venom.

"Tell me, B. Tell me about your infinite wisdom on love." I don't know what to say. My hand feels numb in her deathly grip, but I figure I should say something. Anything. So I tell her what I believe.

"Love...Faith, it's about thinking about the person all the time. And how they've affected you and your life." I hope that's enough of an answer for her. She drops my hand, turns around and walks back towards the bag. Then whirling around she looks directly at me.

"But you think about me all the time, B. About how I've affected you and your life. But you say you're full of hate for me. That you only feel hate when you see me. I hear your thoughts, I hear the words you want to say, and I hear the emotions you long to feel. It's all hate, you say. But you know what **I** think?" I blink, and suddenly she's right behind me, her lips agonizingly close to my ear.

"I think you're in love with me, B." Her husky voice whispers into me, and I shudder. And her laugh is haunting and hollow, continuing on until I realize they are suddenly not just laughs, but dry, racking sobs and cries of pain. I turn, frightened. She's in pain. She's hurting, and the wave of pain washes over me, and I can feel the hysteria she is in. I reach for her, wanting to pull her in, but she steps back. We're suddenly somewhere else, and her feet moving backwards are nearing an edge. I can't help but cry out.

There's blood. Everywhere. Her stomach is gushing blood, her hands are soaked, and all I can smell is her blood again. I look down at my hands, at the knife resting in my hands, and I want to scream. So I do. The fear I feel is too much for me to handle. I'm shaking, I'm screaming. I want to close my eyes beyond my closed eyes, but I can't. I can't move, I can't turn, I can't run. She's swaying near the edge, and I can't stop her. I want to rush towards her, pull her back, not for Angel, but just to make sure she doesn't fall. I want to scream her name, but all I can do is scream nothings.

* * *

I feel someone shaking me. Someone waking me. I push them away and I hear the air rush out of them with a grunt. But they continue trying. Their grip is strong. And I am almost out of this darkness.

"B! Buffy!" I open my eyes, tears streaming. It's nearly the break of dawn, when my shift is over, but that doesn't faze me as much as she does when I see her standing in front of me.

Faith, with her bandaged torso and tight-fitting leather pants that nobody had the nerve to take off. Faith, with her dark, wavy hair and brooding eyes to match. Faith, with the face of a dark angel and the body of a goddess. Faith, with concern in her actions, and fear exuding from her mind. She must've gotten up when I was racked by the nightmare. I start to wonder if she had it to. She slightly crouches down, to meet my level. She's cautious not to touch me anywhere but my shoulders, where her hands are firm.

"Are you alright? Did you have a nightmare?" I breathe deeply, my heart still beating fast. I nod, not trusting my voice. She smiles and pats my hand awkwardly.

"Well, you're up now. You need anything? Water?" It strikes me funny that she's the one who had been confined to an infirmary cot and she's the one asking me if I needed anything. I shake my head.

"No. I'll be fine." She shrugs and moves to lean against the edge of the bed. I feel slightly dejected at the emptiness of where her hands had been. But I say nothing. My thoughts are completely incoherent, so I don't bother to try. I rest my head back, letting the sweat evaporate off of my skin. I can feel her eyes watching me curiously.

My mind wanders and remembers the dream. Everything. The spiel on love. And I feel myself flush up when I realize I have nothing left to do but admit that a part of what dream-Faith had said was true. All this on hate. All the words, and all the proud actions. No, I don't love her, but I didn't hate her. I never hated her. Hurt, yes. Angry, yes. Betrayed, yes. But never hate. I feel stupid, remembering how I had struggled between telling myself that I hated Faith, and then crying on her bed, wishing she'd be alright. Stupid. I am a fucking idiot. I sigh.

"Well. I guess you probably want to be getting some sleep. I'm just gonna...go now." She looks so uncomfortable, so uneasy. She's been edging towards the main door for the several minutes I've been sighing and wasting air on breathing. An apology would probably be for the best.

"Faith, wait." I think I must've said her name over 50 times during the last 2 days. She stops moving and waits, as I asked.

"I...Thanks." Thanks? Where's the apology? I curse my mouth for being a coward. Faith gives me a forced smile and shrugs it all off, like she has a tendency to do.

"No big, B. Just thought I'd help out a friend, you know." My heart twinges at the word. Friend. I really hadn't been fair to her, had I? I don't even get why I've been knocking her down so much. Just the other day I had been trying to reach out to her. Then I get it.

I've been trying so hard to analyze her and call her out on it, with all this resentment. Without really trying to be there for her. And the moment I put my heart into opening her up, she pulled up her walls, and I reacted like I did before. I tore her down with my words, and insulted her. No wonder she was angry. It must've seemed like an act. Just to get her walls down to bring her all the way down. I feel horrible. I do. For the first time in a long time, I understand it. Of course she was defensive. My greeting to her arrival back to Sunnydale was a full-fledged punch. And that was only the first bit. She put her life on the line for all of us, and I let immature grudges get in the way of that. Sure, I had a good reason, but then again, didn't she? I open my mouth to really apologize, to explain myself, but she cuts into my thoughts.

"Listen, B. Sorry about earlier. I don't know why I did that. Lying on that cot for a good long day without any food and sex, and you being the first person there...I kinda just reacted. My bad." She sounded genuinely sorry, but I knew she was trying to let me know that it was just in her nature. It was Faith, after all. The only cravings she had after Slaying were the hungries and the hornies. I gave her a smile.

"No, it's fine. I probably should've just stopped it."

"Aw, B. And I thought you were enjoying yourself!" She winked at me and laughed again. A real one this time. I blush. She pulls me up after offering her hand to me, and hooks arms with me.

"We're Slayers, B. We're allowed to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. We got the some of the horny part covered, and I'm fucking starving." She leads - well, more like drags - me out of the room and heads towards the kitchen. She never did hold grudges outwardly. She never did let anybody know if she was really hurt. I had a feeling she was sick of pushing people away, so I didn't question. I just followed. And with control issues like mine, it wasn't that easy.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: No, as much as I wish I did, I don't own the BtVS characters.**

**Thanks for the reviews. Keep them coming. 3**

Faith's POV

I know I'm still in bandages. And I know it utterly clashes with my pants, but my stomach is begging me for food to take care of the pain, so I let it lead me on. I feel kinda naked without my boots; somebody must've taken them off while I was in, but I guess my socks will do. I'm dragging Buffy along with me, arms hooked like we were the best of friends. It was weird. But nice. In a weird way.

I didn't want to fight anymore. I'm so damn sick of it. Yea, I'm still hurting, I still don't trust any of these people. But that doesn't mean I can't hide it. Have some fun. Just relax while I'm here and when it's time to go, just go. I never stay in one place for too long. Why would anybody want me? Even Death doesn't want me. I swallow the feeling down along with the pancakes on my plate. Years of prison may have changed my bad habits, but it sure as hell hasn't changed years of my good habits. Such as cooking. It's not gourmet, but it works. Raising yourself isn't easy without knowing how to cook. Or how to do the laundry. Among other things.

"This is...good." She sounds so surprised, it makes me choke on my eggs. I'm glad that she decided to be nice to me for today. It's a start. I'm not expecting complete forgiveness for any of the shit I've pulled, but honestly, what more am I supposed to do? I've been keeping clean, slaying and doing the "right" things, not completely shutting people out and learning to drop at least the front line of walls I have up in my defense. It's frustrating as hell. I just don't know what else I can do. I feel like nobody still trusts me. Except Angel. Speaking of Angel, I wonder what he's doing now. Sleeping, most likely. Any old feelings I had for him elevated the day he saved my life. He's the reason I'm still here. The only one who never gave up on me, and I know he's the only one I trust in this place. Sometimes I wonder about him and B. I wonder if they're still an item, or if they've moved on. I kind of hope they have.

No, wait. I really hope they have. I won't lie and tell you that Angel isn't one of the more attractive men I've met, dead or alive. Add the trust thing, and you've got one of the better men in the world. But there's Buffy. **Always** there is a Buffy. And as long as I am alive, there will always be a Buffy. Oh well. I'm not so big on relationships anyways. You know my whole "get some, get gone" policy. Hasn't changed much, though the encounter with Robin helped.

He's gone, you know. I held him in my arms and watched him die. I held back the tears. Emotional breakdown wasn't going to help me at that point. I was already physically ruined. I cried like a baby when I was alone, though, in the shower. I still tell myself it was the water, and that the sweat was making it taste salty running down my face, trickling into the creases in my lips. Not tears at all. I don't do weakness. It's kind of a Faith thing. A persona thing. Sad, I know, but it's life. My life, to be specific.

I'm picking at my food, never delicately, stuffing my face like I hadn't seen food in months. Buffy sits silently, eating properly, like a lady. What a gag. Who cares how you eat? It's all going in and coming out the same way for every one of us, isn't it? So I'm moving from one bowl to another, taking a bite out of a pancake, spoonful of eggs, piece of bacon; delicious stuff. I'm complimenting myself mentally on the food, and then-

"Milk?" She hands me a glass. I freeze and stare at it like it's the devil incarnate. I almost panic in the face of...milk. Buffy pulls it away and sets it down quickly.

"Sorry. I didn't know you weren't a milk-drinker." I'm still staring. I keep remembering another glass of milk, some cookies, and a voice telling me to build strong bones with calcium...I shut my eyes tight. I want these to go away. These memories. The past. It hits me like continuous waves, and I don't know when it'll stop. I know it must be getting to Buffy; I know she feels what I'm feeling, without knowing why. I hear her getting up slightly. I can feel the heat of her hand coming near me, as if making to comfort me, but I never feel it on my shoulder. Instead, it's an embrace. Not so warm, but full of concern. I look up.

"Angel?" He's just holding me, squeezing so tightly I lose my breath, and I get the feeling Buffy's not the only one he's got eyes for anymore. Then I feel a force of jealousy crashing into my brain from her side of the connection. I personally feel guilty, and even more guilty for feeling kind of ecstatic about this new discovery.

"Faith, don't you ever do something stupid like that again." He lets me go slowly, and I feels his eyes looking over me, making sure I'm definitely there.

"My bad, Soul boy. Didn't mean to go scaring the fangs off you." I smirk at him, and he smiles. He hardly glances at Buffy and curtly nods.

"Well, I'm gonna go sleep some more, but I'll catch up with you later. I think the others wanted to go to the club downtown later on." His hands linger on the small of my back, right above my ass, before he turns to go. As nice as those sparks felt, I kind of want to smack him. Now that I've fulfilled my hunger, I'm horny all over again. I sigh impatiently and sit down on my stool.

"It's nice to know that you two are getting along." Oh great. This can't be good. Another reason to be mad at him. Is he stupid? Trying to feel me up in front of Buffy? Reality wakes me up. I get the feeling he did that just to get under her skin, or something. Plus, he's mad at her. Of course he wants to make her mad. So what's the best thing to do to make your ex jealous? Feel up on someone they hate. Of course. And who does she hate? Me. It makes complete sense.

"It's nothing like that, B." That's all I can say, honestly. I just don't want her to start yelling at me about how I take everything from her again. I'll stab my eye out with a fork. She doesn't push it, thankfully, but I know she's still mad.

It's strange, and I don't know what it means, but I think I get kind of jealous of her jealousy.

* * *

Everybody has been talking to me and touching me all day. As if I'm just gonna poof away into nothing any second now. It's pissing me off, cause all this touchy feely-ness is making me want to pop. I've got my damn needs, and this definitely wasn't helping. But everyone votes on dancing, so I figure I'll pick someone up. I had thought about it, and fucking Angel senseless probably wouldn't do much good for our friendship. I know how I am with the men I fuck. I take, then I drop. And I don't want to do that to him. And even more importantly, I just couldn't do that to Buffy. It just doesn't feel right. Not now. Too early in our rebuilding to crush it with something like that. Besides, I'm sure I'll be too drunk to remember who I get tonight. Now, I'm trying to decided between if I should go for a girl or a boy or both tonight, when Kennedy asks me for help upstairs. I follow her without really thinking, and she pulls out several different outfits. 

"Which one? Be completely honest." I stare at her like she's grown another head, but she's adamant. She's really wanting to impress Willow tonight. I help her pick out a couture tube top, and some tight-fitting dark blue jeans. And a pair of shoes. It takes hours just to get to where I started from.

"So this is what it feels like, being insecure about your physical appearance." I poke fun at her. It's never been a big deal to me. I know my body type, and I know how to present it. I know how to flaunt it, how to move it, how to use it for my advantage. I'm not choosy about my outfits, cause I figure anything will look good on me. Besides, it won't be on me for long, if you get my gist.

"Well I'm sorry not all of us have perfect bodies!" She mocks exasperation and throws a heel at me. I catch it and toss it back into the pile of shoes on her bed. Most of the others went out to eat dinner and we, the ones still at home, promised to meet up with them at the club later on. Kennedy casts me a thoughtful look.

"So who're you gonna be getting all hot and sweaty with tonight?" I don't know why she's asking. She knows how I am.

"I'll find someone to fuck, Ken. Just don't freak if I don't come home tonight." I laugh, and she just shakes her head at me. We kid around with each other for another hour or so, and soon enough, it's time to go.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: BtVs not mine. **

**Lucky you, readers. This chapter's exceptionally long. If I don't get any good reviews, I refuse to update any long chapters anymore.**

Faith's POV cont'd

It's packed at the joint we pick out, but it doesn't faze me. This is the way it should be. As soon as we step in, I head towards the bar, and ask for a shot of Jack Daniels. After I down it, I'm off to the floor.

This is my territory: **my world, my rules. **

I have the mannerisms of a guy sometimes, and most people are swayed by the bad-ass, tough-girl attitude, but that's exactly what I am. A girl. And fuck if I don't know how to use that fact to the best of my ability.

I rock my body to the beat of the heavy music, and soon I am lost inside the noise, dancing like there's no tomorrow. It's not long before I see the longing gazes of my admirers, both boys and girls alike. I move from boy to boy, from girl to girl, placing my hands on the right spots at the right moments, and within the hour I'm sure I've danced with everyone on the floor. I feel something like an electric shock run through me and I glance around til I catch the eyes of the others. And for some reason, I feel alone. I think I'm the only one in the group on the dance floor, while the rest of them are on the platform. Talking, playing pool, drinking, making out, laughing. It makes me angry. It frustrates me. Then I feel hands on my hips, a heated body pressed up against me from behind. I glance over my shoulders. A stranger. But not just any stranger. I know a vamp when I feel one. And I'm feeling this one all right. And vice versa. His hands run up my body, as I roll my torso to his touch. It suddenly feels like the whole group is watching me. I know they can sense him, just as I can. The tension rises. I look at him carefully. He's not half bad. Dark hair, deep piercing eyes. And desperately in need of a quickie. Blood or sex. I flash him a seductive smile, and he leans over to nip at my neck. I shiver slightly with pleasure. Not bad. I'm surprised he could hold his control. Behind me, I sense everybody wanting to make a move, wanting to get him off of me, not quite sure if I'm just leading him on or if I really just don't know.

Hello? Slayer here, I'm buzzed but it's not fucking with my spidey-senses yet. Slayer-senses, whatever.

"Wanna go out back?" He whispers to me. In response I run one of my hands down his stomach to his groin and squeeze lightly. He groans at the touch, and I feel him stiffening.

"Wherever you take me, big boy." I whisper back. His eyes reveal his excitement, his desperation, as he drags me off. I don't bother turning around to give any of them a clue as to what I'm gonna do.

He thrusts me against the wall and gives me a deep kiss. I don't mind. Take care of some of my needs before I do some slaying? No problem, no complaints at all. Then I feel a transformation in his actions. Here it comes. He grabs my wrists and lifts it above me, holding it against the brick before he licks my neck. I fake a moan.

"This won't hurt a bit." He says. Then I see the change in his eyes and the molding of his face into deformity as he smiles with his fangs, expecting me to scream like a typical human girl. I laugh, and he looks very confused.

"Sorry to disappoint, vamp, but it looks like the pleasure's all mine." His eyes flash with fear as he tries to run, but I kick him across the alleyway and he stumbles to the floor. I straddle him and let loose. I'm striking his face with my fists - quick, powerful punches. He tries to push me off but fails. I grab at my handy dandy stake (always near my person) and dust him with a smirk. I jump on the balls of my feet and brush myself off.

"Thanks for the fun." I tell the remnants of the vamp. I hear the clearing several throats and I look up. Of course everybody's there. I always have some sort of audience. I can't think of anything but to smile at them. And wave.

"Hey guys. What's up?" Nobody responds, so I just shrug, putting my stake away into its holder under my jeans and attached to my boot. That's when I feel it. More tingling. I sigh. Damnit. I turn to face four more ugly, bloodthirsty vampires. I roll my eyes and throw my hands up in the air in mock disappointment.

"I **just** put the stake away, you inconsiderate bastards." They charge, roaring with their fangs bared. I can hardly contain my excitement. My fighting style over the years have been perfected to just the way I like it. Fast, strong, and deadly. I give one a good jump kick, connecting my steel toed boots with his chin. There's an audible crack as he goes down. Another one receives a combination of crosses, hooks, forwards, then a side kick to his chest. He's not getting up anytime soon. The last two circle me, wary, and smarter than their friends. I've developed more patience over the time spent in jail, so it doesn't bother me that they're taking their time. I use it to taunt them.

"I don't have all night, boys. I'm still looking for a good fuck." I pause and wriggle my eyebrows at them.

"Unless you're planning to help get me off!" At that, I pull a spinning hook kick, bringing down one by the jaw, and the last one starts running. But I have other plans. I grab him by the hair and force him on his knees.

"Going somewhere?" My voice drawls huskily. I can feel him shudder. He starts babbling.

"I-I swear, I didn't have anything to do with this. There was a mistake! Please, just let-let me go!" I pretend to think for a moment, before I knee him to unconsciousness.

"Oops. Sorry." I laugh. It's all in good fun, and my mood was lifted by a hundred times. I love this feeling. I don't feel the need to stake them, but I do it anyways. Dust piles, nothing more. I want to dance, I want to sing, I want to jump around. But mostly I want to eat. And fuck. Wow. Definitely worked up. Since nobody's saying anything, for some reason, I just give them an odd look and push past them. I'm ready to "order out", if you know what I'm saying.

"Faith." I hate that tone. What use is there for that tone? I just fulfilled my duties, so what the hell do they want now?

"Yes, Giles?" But really, I mean to say everybody. What are they staring at me like that, for?

"What was that all about?" Willow pipes up. They're all looking at each other like they all are thinking the same thing. Something I don't know about. But I'm ready to go, so I give a straight answer.

"It was about my job. My duty. I'm a Slayer. I **slay**. I can do that. It's kind of what I do." I know I'm being overly obvious, but what could they expect?

"Oh, cause you're **so** big on doing what's right." Buffy's voice. My jaw clenches, as well as my fists, and I feel the walls sliding back to their original places. I'm so sick of this. I really am.

"Shut up, Buffy." Thank you, Kennedy. But Buffy always has other ideas.

"You stay out of this. This goes back way before you even **knew** you were a potential, much less a Slayer." If I know Kennedy, she's not gonna take that sitting down. Or standing up, for that matter. She gets all up in Buffy's face, and I'm actually quite amused by this.

"And **you** need to get over your prissy little self. I already told you, you're not the only Slayer anymore, and if you'd like to argue, any of us would be more than happy to prove you wrong." Many of the other new Slayers gathered behind her, nodding their consent. Angel steps between them, but looks directly at me.

"Listen, this isn't about the past, or what's ever happened between you and us. We were just concerned for your well-being. There **are** other slayers here." He's trying to be firm and nice about it. Okay. I get it. So everyone's mad at me because I had my fun in slaying?

Um. Two words: Hell. Fucking. No.

Okay, I know. That was three. I just felt the need to throw in the "fucking." Added bonus, you know. Ha.

"I wasn't looking for a fight. It came to me, and I took care of it. I didn't figure I should have to call for help when I can do it on my own." I know I sound defensive. Because I am.

"Well maybe you should "figure" you need somebody there to watch your back before there's another accident." Buffy's voice is filled with frustration. I know she's just worried, I know they all are. For me. But "accident" is a clear case of telling me they still don't trust me. I'm done. I'm just gonna apologize and say I won't do it again, which is a lie. But as I open my mouth to say,

"I'm sorr-"

"From taking the virginity of innocent guys to the murder of city officials." Xander says softly, and normally it shouldn't hurt, but it does. Willow opens her mouth, but there's no babble. Just strong words.

"And you always leaving us to clean up the mess." She kind of seems surprised at the words from her mouth, but I knew she never really forgave me. None of them did. She quickly adds to what she said.

"It's not that we don't trust you, Faith. It's just that-"

"It's just that you don't trust me." I finish for her. I can't help it, but I start laughing. Deja vu. More bitter laughter. I'm not used to breaking down. Especially in front of so many people. So I laugh. I look crazy, I'm sure. Like a raving lunatic. Except without the raving. But I can't stop. It's either I keep laughing or I cry. Laughing seems less weak, right?

"After everything. After all I've tried to do to **prove** my change, my reformation." I shake my head. Yes, still laughing. I look at Angel, who looks so concerned for me. He seems to step closer, but I only step back.

"You were wrong, Angel. I could save the world from the devil himself and they **still** wouldn't forgive me. I could keep trying for the rest of my life, and none of them would notice the good. It's **always** about what I did, never what I am doing, or what I plan to do." I shove my hands into my pockets, afraid they'd see them shaking. The laughter stopped. Now all I hear is the hard, heavy beating of my heart. Everything's spiraling out of control again, and I feel even worse about myself. About being here. I start to wonder why I even thought I might have a chance to be accepted again. I stare directly at Buffy. At the Scooby Gang. Heart throbbing, pain excruciating.

"And you know what's funny? Angel did to you things that I couldn't come close to doing. He's killed more than I have ever killed, and you? Buffy, you always wanted him back. You protected him, you loved him. and when it came to helping someone you weren't infatuated with, none of you could even come close to caring. You said I spat on you, B? **You don't know what's it's like, being dirt,** being treated like dirt by everybody, much less the one person you shared a connection with! I know why Angel returned like a shining knight out of hell, do you? Because you believed in him. Because all of you forgave him, let him live. But why? Why did nobody believe in **me**? Why didn't anybody try to save **me**, Buffy? Willow? Xander? Giles? Is it because it seemed like I was taking over your life?" My ears ring from the sound of my shouting.

"You **were** taking over my life! You **did**!" Buffy's yelling right back at me.

"I was trying to live the life that I never had the chance to live! You had a mother who loved you, a family that loves you still, friends who support you! Yea, you got burdens with the Slayer thing, you think I didn't? That I still don't? Try living with those burdens and have nobody. Live in the dumps with nobody who will even try to push hard enough to break through the walls I built for myself."

"I tried-"

"You only tried because you didn't trust me. And that's what hurt the most. Everybody wondered why I switched teams. Everybody thought I was just evil in the first place. Maybe it was because the **only** people who took care of me, who took me in and called me their family, were the bad ones. And to think they might care about me more than you guys ever did...Makes you wonder who the good guys really are, huh, B?" I shake my head in disbelief. And they're still looking at me like I'm a psycho. Still with the condescending looks.

"I'm sorry, B. I was sorry the second I stabbed the guy, and I'm sorry that I made the choices that I chose. But I was 16, 17 years old, B. Younger than all of you and doing this a hell of a lot less. I'm not making excuses, and I know it probably doesn't matter if it was taken into consideration. Yea, I killed. I reveled in it. But more than all the glory of being a bigshot, I was disgusted. Disgusted with myself, with the people I associated with, with my constant little voice telling me it didn't matter, that I don't care. But I guess you wouldn't know, B. You always end up doing the right thing, so good for you. I always admired you, respected you, but I was jealous. And I don't give jack about anything people say, **nobody** can ever blame me for wanting what I never had." I turn my back to them and begin to pace.

"He **never** made me feel like this." I say. Behind me, I sense the confusion. I continue.

"He never questioned me. He never told me he couldn't trust me. He never put me down, or hurt me. He never made me feel used, he never kept me in the fucking dark, he never lied to me." I'm on a roll now, and I can't stop. I face them, and I need to tell the goddamn Scooby gang exactly how I felt, and how I've been feeling. Everything, and all of it.

"He cared about me. He fucking spoiled me like I was his kid. He laughed with me, he cheered me up. He baked me chocolate chip cookies, and made me drink milk like I was 10 years old, but I didn't care! I didn't fucking care! It was like living a childhood I never fucking had!" I'm flushed, I'm hurting, I'm remembering. And they just stare.

(I have the slightest urge to just gauge out their eyes. They're ogling at me like guppies. Honestly, in this outfit, do I look like fish bait to you? I don't think so. Bitches.)

"He took me out for icees. He put me above everyone else. He hugged me because he wanted to, I could see his face lighten up whenever I walked into the room. I was somebody's little girl for once, and I **knew**. He **loved** me! And I made mistakes. Small mistakes, big mistakes. Mistakes that couldn't be taken back. But he-" I choke on a sob. I try to push it down, but I can't. I just can't.

"He never once told me I wasn't good enough. He told me that it was okay, that he would fix it. He told me everyday how beautiful I was, and how I was growing up so fast. He didn't treat me like a backup, or like another employee. Or like a tool. He treated me like I was his kid. Like I was his little girl." Most of them are shuffling uncomfortably, not knowing what to do. I don't care. Because I know they don't. And my eyes were only searching out the originals anyway. I can't help the hate in my voice. The anger, the rage. And I don't bother trying to.

"Bad, you said." I pause.

"Evil, you said." I stop again.

"Do you think that I cared? Yea, I went to him at first just to get to you guys. Just to be the rebel." I spit out in scorn.

"But after a while, it didn't matter what he was. Evil? Bad? Good? That didn't matter anymore! He** cared** for me! Nothing else mattered!" I'm screaming, I'm crying, I'm shaking so hard I think I'll vomit.

"I devoted myself to him, I gave him my complete and utter loyalty without any doubts in my mind! Goddamnit, he was the **only** person in this fucking world who loved me! Who ever bothered to care about my existence." My voice softens to a whisper. I close my eyes for a moment, then I open them. They latch on to the first person I see.

"You envied me for my attempted friendships to **your** friends." I say to Willow. Her eyes widen and her mouth opens as if to say something, but I don't give her a chance. My gaze shifts.

"You **craved** me, like I was a fucking piece of meat." Xander also imitates a fish. Another shift.

"You treated me like a disposable creature, a second-rate slayer, and **nothing** more." I snarl at Giles, who cringes visibly. Then I turn to her.

"And **you**." My voice deepens, and becomes more threatening.

"You **hated** me, and hate me still. You exude superiority and think **you** get the bad end of the deal." I laugh.

"You don't even **know **what it's like to be living in a shitass motel, where your "friends" visit you for a fuck, or to ask you to come over for Christmas so that their moms can bribe you to take over the dirty work in order for them to go to college. What it's like to only be called when needed, and never to socialize. What it's like to hear from some new fake Watcher that your "friends" are having a meeting without you, excluding you, from the plans that should **include** you." I just lean against the wall, trying to look nonchalant, but really needing something to support me before I collapse. I try to pick out the funny parts, but life has suddenly just went from an all time high to rock bottom.

Yep, look. There's the rock in the dirt, and that's me, crushed under it.

"He told me you would never see me as anything more than a killer." I murmur. More of a thought than something I wanted to say out loud.

"What-" They all start in.

"The Mayor. The Boss. Dad..." Jesus, it hurts. But I started talking, might as well finish.

"He came to me in the way that the First does. Trying to get to me personally. I made him leave, but his words got to me. That none of you would ever see me as anything else. That the moment I turned my back, you'd finish the job you started." I push myself away from the wall and walk towards Buffy. They try to block me, but I push my way towards her, bringing out something from my jacket. It's a knife.

It's **_the_** knife.

I'd found it in their weapons room. I remember hugging it to me when I found it. Crying like a baby. When they see I'm holding a weapon, somebody punches me across the face. I don't even bother to see who it was, and I think my lip is cut, but I ignore it. I flip the knife so that I'm holding the blade end and I shove the handle into her hands.

"So do it, Buffy. **Kill** me." I firmly step closer, feeling the blade dig into my stomach as she stiffened. She searches my eyes, as if looking for something.

Do you see something, B? Some sign of fucking insanity? That maybe I've totally gone off the deep end? Let me tell you something. Dying is probably the sanest of ideas I've had for myself in a while.

"Do it, B. Kill me and get it over with. Cause if I try to do it again, you'll all just take pity on me like some wounded fucking animal and heal me so that you can tear me down again. Come on!" I yell at her, and I lift my shirt up slightly, revealing that damn scar. I point at it.

"Look, B. It's been waiting for you to finish the damn job. Every time I get close to you, it pulses. It throbs. It hurts so fucking much, I want to cut it out of myself. So just **fucking** finish it. Because I'm tired of this. I'm sick of wanting to be a part of a group that doesn't want me anywhere near them unless I can help them. I can't do this anymore. So do it." I will her to do it. I'm willing her with my eyes, with my body movements, with my everything. Because I don't have anywhere else to go, and I'm just so tired of it.

But when do things work my way? She drops it. I hear it clatter to the floor and my eyes shut tight. Then I open them and turn around, leaving the knife on the ground, and walk.

"Stop." I hear her, but I don't stop. Then I feel her hand forcing me to turn and the intensity of my glare hurts my own eyes. She slightly jumps back and automatically brings up her hands, as if to fight me.

"If you make the first punch, B, you'll still be making the last. I won't fight you." My arms are still at my sides and my hands aren't even clenched. I feel too dead to try. I feel too worthless to care. She looks surprised, and lowers her fists, but she doesn't unclench them. I can still sense her muscles ready to move if I "tried something funny."

Jesus, B. What happened to our Slayer connection? Can't even get the picture that I don't even have the energy to live?

I flinch towards her, and she immediately pulls a left hook. She used all her power in that one, falling onto my side was kind of a good sign. Plus, I could just tell. So could my jaw. I spit blood out onto the dirt and lifted my eyes to meet hers.

"Did it feel good, B? I know you're just itching to hit me again. So what are you waiting for?" She's staring at her fist, like she can't believe she didn't know I wasn't really attacking.

"I'm a good actress, B. World's best. Think I told you that before." I'm brushing myself off as I get up.

"I'm telling you, B. I could say one thing, and you'll always believe I'll do the other. And maybe that was true when you first met me, but I'm not so big on it anymore." I light myself a cigarette and take a drag. She doesn't say anything on behalf of the group, and the group doesn't say anything on behalf of her. My usual impatience kicks in and I shrug for the hundredth time.

"K then. I'm off...Listen, Angel." I look directly at him.

"I'll find someplace else to stay and I'll pick up my shit tomorrow." I don't really want to leave, but this switching of emotions these fucking idiots are doing towards me will drive me crazy before long. I give them all a big smile and I life my hand in a gesture of goodbye.

"Night, guys." I turn around and start walking again.

"Faith-" Someone calls.

I break into a run.


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks a bunch for the reviews. They were much appreciated! **

**And just as a note, I know Buffy's being a bit of a bitch, but don't worry. She'll have to come around eventually, right? Right. **

Buffy's POV

We watch her tear off into the darkness that always seemed to claim her as its own. I'm still in a shock. I hit her when she hadn't even...

_**I hit her**_.

With everything behind it. I think everyone was expecting another throw down, but then again, we always expect the worst from Faith.

"Damnit." Angel runs a hand through his hair angrily. I turn to face everyone. I still don't know what to say.

"So. Does anybody else think that was the stupidest idea ever put into action?" Kennedy's voice snaps through the air. A murmur of agreement ripples through the newbies. She's glaring at us as she starts to push her way out of the crowd.

"I'm gonna find her. Try to stop me if you want, but I'm gonna check every bar in this damn city until I find her." She starts walking off, when Willow grabs her hand. Kennedy whips her head around.

"Ken-"

"You stay out of it. You and your Scooby Gang." She looks at us with obvious disgust.

"Always treating her like she's no one. You think I haven't noticed? You think none of us noticed? Like she's just some spare part. Why can't you just leave her the fuck alone?" She stops to give a curt laugh.

"Oh yea. That's **all** you know how to do. Isolate her, then break her." Now we're watching Kennedy storm off.

I think I might be sick. I lean against a crate and put my face in my hands.

* * *

Narrative

They didn't know what to do.

Nobody was in the mood to dance, so they went home. But as the younger ones slept, the others sat together in silence, unsure and rather depressed.

* * *

Giles felt like this before. Helpless, and like a complete failure. Helpless as he watched Angelus kill his girlfriend. A failure every time he watched Buffy fall into death's hands. But the difference was that he still tried. And things were all forgiven while friendships and bonds grew stronger. He clung to every word Faith had said about the Mayor. He realized that it wasn't that she was evil; no, she wasn't seduced by evil at all. 

**It was love.**

The Mayor doted on her like a father as Giles had done for Buffy. And they had expected her to do the "right" thing? Even now he realized their foolishness. She didn't differentiate between right and wrong. It was all about who loved her and who hated her. Who in their right minds could have gone back to them?

They, who made her feel useless.

They, who only tried to force help upon her.

They, who only did it for the sake of Buffy.

From one set of chains to another, to another. Forced to be, to do, as they asked. No wonder she loved the Mayor. He loved her for her recklessness, her crude language, her everything. No wonder her loyalty was given to him. No wonder she never trusted them.

No bloody wonder.

* * *

Willow tried to defend herself. But she couldn't. In more ways than one, she was guilty. Faith had been right. She did envy her. So much that she couldn't even bear to share her friends. She was relieved when she found out about Faith's betrayal. No more threat to her friendships. It made her so ashamed now. She denied a friendless girl friends because of her own jealousy. She, without even knowing, had pushed Faith further and further away into isolation. And then she delivered one of the final blows with her words. 

At the time, it was the most courageous thing she'd done. Now, she knew it was the most cowardly. She was supposed to be smart, but what's the use if she couldn't even understand the devastating effects of her words? Looking back, she could see the pain the other girl's eyes. The reference to her past must've struck hard and fast. Willow remembered the punch. It wasn't just anger. There was fear, too. Faith was a mystery, and liked it that way.

She hardly said a word about her past; how much it must've hurt to find that the Scooby Gang had assumed so much from so little.

_Stupid, to think she wanted to steal my friends,_ Willow thought. It wasn't about taking over her friends. It was about having some at all in the world. She refused Faith her friendship and the friendships of Xander, Buffy, and even Giles.

But more so than her friends, Willow had denied Faith of the meaning of her own name.

* * *

Xander found it easier to put up a case for himself than the other two, but Faith's words wormed themselves under his skin. And he knew she was right. Ever since he'd laid eyes upon her, he had done what any guy in close proximity would've done:** craved**. He looked at her for two things only: an assistance to Buffy when they needed it, and a source of private fantasies. He didn't even bother to be much of a friend until after everyone realized the danger she could be. And foolishly he thought maybe because they had sex, it would mean they had a "connection." 

He and she both saw it as a release and touched no more upon it and he tried to use it to "be her friend." And that wasn't even for her sake. It was for Buffy's sake. For the gang's sake. Sure, he could say that he almost died trying to "help" her, but going alone was the first mistake. Then using the sex as a leverage to a friendship that was never there to "help" her? An even dumber mistake. How embarrassing. He was a good guy, sure, but still he was a male. He knew he used her more than she used him and, even if he'd felt like a pawn, he knew it was his own damn fault.

He remembered the longing in her eyes that night, for something. For love, but he didn't do anything until he had to. He felt like a fool because of the reason she'd chosen him: because she was "ready to pop". But he knew the softness of her touch. Yes, it was wild. Yes, it was intense and passionate. But she wasn't rough. She wasn't even close. She tread softly and with a delicacy that surprised him. It was sensual more than it was a quick fuck, and he knew it. He immediately disclosed it after she panicked and threw him out, and he left feeling dirty and low. He had resented her for it, but he should've known better.

If maybe he'd been there for her since the beginning and stuck by her like he did with Buffy, things could've been different.

* * *

Buffy was done defending herself. 

It did her no good, because she knew Faith was right. Besides, the only things she could think of in defense were Faith's past actions and the choices she had made. But whose fault was that, once you realize the actions of the people who pushed her there? She was quickly learning to despise herself for the stupid things she did.

* * *

Buffy's POV

I'm wishing I ran after her. I know, I know. It's stupid. I, above all these people, was the main reason she bolted. Every single time, and this was no exception. I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I just had to let all these past grudges come out again. I should've held back. I should've kept my cool. After our friendly encounter this morning, and I just had to break it all down again. After all my positive feelings, and I just had to push it all aside again.

But I was afraid.

Faith always had a way of making me feel insecure about myself. It sounds silly, and if I told her, she'd probably laugh at me. But her wild encounters are always a source of uncertainty for all of us. None of us have ever been that crazy about doing things. As zesty, or as out of control. We were all watching, without even realizing, and in my mind, the image of old Faith flashed as I saw her dancing. If Willow's taught me anything, it's about auras. Everyone has one, with the exception of the beings that are dead but not...dead. Such as Angel. Auras can be strong, weak, shy, bold, hot, cold. They're normally just there and you can hint subtle differences, but nothing all that unusual. But with Faith, it's completely different. Her aura doesn't just ooze from her pores. As soon as you meet her, it's in your face.

It's intense, and frightening if you don't know what to do with it.

The worst part of it is that although you know it's strong, you won't ever know what's she's feeling unless she loses control. And that hardly happens. But it did. Not more than an hour ago, she couldn't hold back those tears, and I felt a rush of betrayal crash into my mind before it completely stopped. She'd managed to bring it all back again. I knew the feeling. I caught a hold of it that one night when the whole of them voted me out. I remember it. Like a knife in my gut. Twisting and deadly. But never really killing me. And of course Faith's dealt it more than once.

Figuratively and literally. How ironic that I've done both.

And now here we are. I am unbelievably angry. Angry at her for being right. Angry at myself for being wrong. For not being the one driving the wheel. Angry at all the circumstances of this goddamn situation. Angry at everybody. This is driving me crazy.

I wonder where she is. I wonder what she's doing. I hope...I hope she isn't looking for someone. I hope she isn't planning on picking up some stranger. I hope she isn't going to hurt herself. I...

_I need to find her._

I remember that I haven't even apologized to her for anything. Although I highly doubt she'll accept any of my apologies now. I refused her apologies, and everybody knew it. Actually, I don't know any of the Scoobies who have really forgiven her just yet. But I think she deserves it. Look at us, thinking we have the right to treat her like shit because of things she's trying to make up for. That she **did** make up for.

I get up at the same time everybody else does. We all say the same thing.

"We need to find her."

* * *

It seems that Angel Investigations had been thinking the same thing, cause they were waiting for us with maps and addresses by the time we shook ourselves free from our trances. Wes, Giles, Fred and Gunn in group one. Cordelia, Connor, Lorne and Xander in group two. Angel, Willow and me in group three. We mark off which sides of town we'll search and take our leave in separate cars. 

_Faith. Where are you?_


	10. Chapter 10

**I decided to add two chapters, to make up for the last couple days. And what with all the reviews, I think you guys deserve it. Just keep them coming. I love getting feedback.**

Narrative

_She's got to be in here. _

Kennedy had been into 4 different bars already. She was getting cold and extremely irritated. But she resolutely went on, following her senses, trying to reach out for her superior Slayer. She stepped into the bar and in five minutes stepped right back out.

_So she was here 10 minutes ago. Damn. Where the fuck is she?_

Sighing, she kept walking. She wished she was in more comfortable clothes than her dancing attire. It was all about impressing her girlfriend, but now she was pissed off at her. What right did any of the Scooby Gang have to throw things into Faith's face like that? It didn't make any sense to her. She'd heard about the things the Rogue Slayer had done and at first she had been angry and upset, ready to fight her for all her mistakes. But after she'd met her, she realized something.

_She's just like me._

It was a bit of a shock, really. To meet the "big, bad Faith" and instead of an evil, malicious woman, she saw only someone who'd been through enough of life as it was. Kennedy was almost as good of a reader as Faith was, and immediately felt the vibes of hard living.

It wasn't a pretense that Faith put up. She was harsh, raw, and completely real. It scared most of the other Potentials, but only drew Kennedy in. She was shocked and angered by the way their trainers treated their newest ally. Suspicious glares, excluded meetings, forced assignments...like she was some kind of untrained, wild dog that should've been put down years ago.

She asked about it nonchalantly to Willow, and felt a twinge of resentment when she got her answer.

_"Oh, Ken. It's just...we don't really trust that she's not evil still. We all have to watch ourselves around her."_

_"So you just don't trust her?"_

_"Well...well. Yea, basically."_

_"So why'd you ask her to come?" _

_"We need all the help we can get."_

_"Oh."_

_"Why do you ask?"_

_"Just wondering. She seems pretty cool, and most of you guys kind of...treat her weird."_

_"Well she deserves it."_

_"But she's done a lot for us. Helped us out a lot..."_

_"Doesn't make up for the things she's done. At all."_

_"So where does forgiveness come in?"_

_"It doesn't."_

She left it off. She didn't want to risk seriously freaking out on Willow. The anger had started then. It was pity at first, and now it reached full-fledged rage at the people who couldn't forgive Faith when she had been nothing but **good** to them. Especially to the girls. To the Potentials. She'd taken the time to know them, to train with them, to learn their names and who they were as people. She knew that they were human, and not just tools. She took them out to club and dance and have fun. She was honest with them, and knew the score. And Buffy was surprised? What an idiot.

She didn't care. She was gonna find Faith, and let her know at least one person gave a shit. Even if it meant wandering around L.A. at night in club clothes.

* * *

Kennedy's POV

Uh. Tingle tingle tingle. Something is tickling at my senses, and I just happen to know it isn't Faith. Damnit. These things always happen. 2 vamps. Okay, I think I can handle this on my own. I'm starting to feel good. This is what Faith meant when she said Slaying's just a way to let loose. I relax my muscles and get into fighting stance while they circle me, eyeing me slowly.

"Dangerous time to be out and alone." One of them growls. I roll my eyes. Males, human beings or not, just do not know how to do the "menacing thing" without saying something as cliche as that. At least the other one stays silent.

"Well I'm not alone anymore, now am I?" I say sarcastically. He lunges. I block his punch and palm strike up his nose bridge.

_Crack._

Oh yea. This is what I'm talking about. As he falls back, I turn for the other one. But all I see is a cloud of dust. I hear another poof, and I turn back around and there she is, stake already being put away. As I'm thinking I should get one of my own, I feel kinda bummed. I wanted some kills of my own. I was in the mood for it, but oh well.

"You should learn how to track people more carefully." She says, taking a drag on a Marlboro. She curls her upper lip in a bit of a snarl; she's a Camels fan, but I guess that's all she's got at the moment. She holds out the pack, offering me one. I take it. Might as well.

"What do you mean? I found you, didn't I?" I reply casually as we both take a seat against a fence. Yep. These clothes are fucked.

"Or did **I** find **you**? For a second I thought it was Buffy, but something screamed, 'I-don't-have-a-stick-up-my-ass'. Plus, you and me, we've got similar enough energy to be able to tell." She's laughing and I can smell liquor on her breath. Hmm. Seems sober enough, but maybe she just holds her alcohol real well. Makes me want some.

"Yea. That's so not my style. I'm not particularly fond of having things shoved up my ass." I regret it as soon as I say it. Her eyebrows goes up and she winks at me.

"Well shit, I guess I'll have to let Red know about that little sex tip. How much you think it's worth?" She chuckles when I throw a pebble at her head.

"Fuck you." I say giggling.

"Yes, please." Her dimples show and I feel like we're closer than we were before. There's no serious conversation. Just two people talking, joking, relaxed. No distrust, and no need to impress.

"So what'd you follow after me for?" She throws the butt of her cigarette away and takes another one out. I don't blame her. Chain-smoking helps calm the nerves when things are ridiculously stressful. As it is for her 24/7, it seems.

"I don't know. The way they were treating you pissed me off. Had a thought in my head that I would find you and bring you back. Something like that." I mutter. I take my fourth drag. Blegh. I can see why she doesn't like the brand. Too dry. I throw it away. She looks thoughtfully into the dark.

"Yea. I don't mind so much anymore. A drink or two helps lighten the mood. I think it's about time to run, anyways." I frown. I didn't want her to leave.

"I don't want you to leave."

"I know." She saw the frown, I guess.

"It's always Buffy, Buffy, Buffy! Everyone treats her like she's god, and treats you like shit. How can you stand it?" Blowing the perfect smoke ring, she tilts her head to look at me. Her hair falls a little over her face.

"I don't know, Ken. When I first got to Sunnydale, it wasn't so big of a deal. I grew up being treated like shit. Normal, you know? The only reason I noticed at all was cause of my first Watcher, man. She was so **good** to me. It was different. With the Scoobies, it was the same deal again. Just stick around til you're needed...then there was the Mayor." Her voice choked but she swallowed it down.

"Good old Boss..." Her voice has a slight tremor. I pretend I don't hear it.

I'd heard the story. And I heard even more about it tonight, when we all felt her heart cry out for the man that she adored. The father she'd never had. I don't blame her at all. I'd probably have done the same thing, actually. It isn't fair that she got all the rough deals. And that the rest of them didn't, but expected her to be like them. It isn't fair that she's been working so hard to make up for her mistakes, and is never forgiven. And all the while, Buffy makes a mistake and it's completely forgiven the minute she does one right thing. Faith's made mistakes. But she's done so many other good things, that it doesn't make sense at all.

_It isn't fair. It just isn't._

"No, it's not fair. But I live with it. I have to." She murmurs, as if she'd read my mind. Well. Not as if. I think she did.

"No you don't, look at all the good things you've done! You've reformed, and you've helped us so much-"

"Fuck it, Kennedy! I'm a killer! I've killed and **nobody** trusts me! And of course not! Why would **anybody** trust me?!" She's gritting her teeth so hard I'm afraid her jaw will break. I say nothing, and neither does she. I feel her guilt. Her remorse. I'm angry again. Of course she's feeling this way. How could she not? Nobody's given her the chance to be forgiven. Nobody's helping her get the weight off her shoulders. At least, not the people who **can** help her. I sigh, frustrated.

"I trust you, Faith." I say suddenly. She says nothing.

"I trust you more than I'd trust anybody else in the group." Her eyes are closed, but she asks.

"Even more than Red?" I know she's expecting me to eat my words. But I shake my head, even if she can't see.

"I'm gonna state the obvious and tell you that I love her. But you're someone I'd trust everything with. And sometimes, I can't do that with Willow." And I mean it. There are just some things you can't share with your partners. Besides, I know she trusts Buffy way more than she does me. I think I'm allowed to have a confidant of my own.

"Thanks, Ken. You're a good kid." Her voice is low and hoarse. I don't like being called a kid, because I'm not, but I know what she means, and it doesn't bother me. I put my hand on her knee, and the corner of her lips lift up slightly. She slides over and lets me lean my head on her shoulders. Friendship. I hope she knows now that she's got me to back her up, through the hard times. I wonder what she's thinking about, and I wonder if she's gonna leave.

I yawn, I'm so damn tired. It must be worse for her, I think. She crosses her legs and motions for me to lie down. I protest. She needs more sleep than I do. After a good 5 minutes of quarreling, she snaps.

"Kennedy, stop arguing and get some fucking sleep. I'll wake you up when I'm done thinking." I grumble noisily but I'm grateful for the pillow. I'm already half asleep when I feel her moving.

"Stupid kid. Fucking negative degrees outside and not even wearing a damn jacket." I feel the warmth of her jacket engulf me and I want to thank her, but I'm gone before I can say a word.


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks for the reviews. Special thanks to some of you who had some suggestions. **

**Just as a note, it'll seem like things are too simply resolved, but in the next chapter...well, you'll see. Can't let you in on all the fun just yet!**

**Song is� "Conspiracy" by Paramore. **

Buffy's POV

It's been...

I glance at the clock in the car.

It's been near two hours and no sign of Faith or Kennedy. I know Willow's worried; she's been gnawing at her nails since we started searching. Angel's calling the others.

"Any luck? Oh...same here...alright...last bar...meet up?...Okay." I look at him expectantly. He shakes his head. I sigh. We park at the next bar and walk in. It's still loud and rowdy. I guess the night's still young for most people. I, on the other hand, feel like I could sleep for days on end. We walk up to the bartender and ask if he's seen two dark-haired girls walk in anytime during the night.

"Both, but not at the same time." He says after a while. 

"The first girl walked in and got a couple a shots in before she heard something and left. The other girl walked in a little bit after her and was looking for her. She walked out after I told her that she'd just left. I'm pretty sure I saw that one walk around back. There's an alley upways from here. But I wouldn't suggest going now. It's dangerous out there for you young'ns." His eyes peer over his spectacles at us like an admonishing grandfather. We thank him and step out.

"No room to drive 'upways'." Angel remarks, a little amused.

"We'll walk." Willow says excitedly. She's anxious to find Kennedy, but I figure she's nervous about Faith, too. So we walk.

The alley's dark, except for a single lamplight. It was hard to see, but it was enough. There they were, two figures against a fence. All we had to do was wait for the others. Our search was over. 

I hear a muffled gasp and I feel like doing the same. We're too far for them to see us. But I guess Kennedy wouldn't see or hear us anyways; she's fast asleep with her head in Faith's lap. I see Faith's jacket covering her like a blanket. 

I feel a twinge of jealousy, and I think Willow felt it, too.

She's playing with Kennedy's hair absentmindedly, the other hand holding a cigarette. But the surprise is this: she's singing.

_**She's singing.**_

Her voice is low and melodic, husky and strangely exotic. We all just stop and listen to the words, as if in a trance.

_"Please speak softly, for they will hear us_

_And they'll find out why we don't trust them_

_Speak up dear cause I cannot hear you_

_I need to know why we don't trust them�_

**_Explain to me this conspiracy against me, yea_**

**_And tell me how I've lost my power_**

_Where can I turn? Cause I need something more_

_Surrounded by uncertainty I'm so unsure_

_Tell me why I feel so alone_

_Cause I need to know to whom do I owe_

**_Explain to me this conspiracy against me, yea_**

**_And tell me how I've lost my power_**

_I thought that we'd make it_

_Because you said that we'd make it through_

_And when all security fails_

_Will you be there to help me through?_

**_Explain to me this conspiracy against me, yea_**

**_And tell me how I've lost my power_**

_I've lost my power"_

She trails off, and the alley falls silent. I look at Angel and he's got an expression on his face that I can feel to the deepest of my soul, I look at Willow and so does she. It's safe to say nobody's ever heard Faith sing before.

"Well gosh." Lorne? I turn. Everyone's here, had been there, listening to her sing, as if it brought all of us together. I know that we were planning to meet up anyways, but that's how it feels. 

_**It was beautiful.**_

"I'm just about freezing, guys. Red, come get your girl, I can't feel shit in my legs." Faith's voice calls out. Of course she knew. I could feel her knowledge of us during the middle of the song.

Then I remember. Lorne. I glance at him. He's tearing up in spite of himself, and Fred is holding him, murmuring softly. I want to ask so many questions.

_What did he see?_

_What did she reveal?_

_Who__** is**__ she?_

But I don't. We've already started towards her. Willow runs over to help Kennedy up, but Faith stops her from waking the sleeping girl. 

"Just hold her for a sec." Willow complies, crouching down to hold her head. Faith stands up, wincing at the blood rushing through her legs. After a few moments of shaking her legs out, she bodily picks Kennedy up. I can't believe she's sleeping through all this, but she is. Snoring, too. Faith throws her jacket over her shoulder and starts walking.

* * *

She ignores all of us and heads towards Angel's car. He holds the door open as she steps in, gently bringing in Kennedy with her. She slams the door shut before anybody else can get into the back with them. Not even Red. I mean Willow. 

And let me tell you. Willow looks indignant as all hell. And very confused. I shrug. Best not to ask when Faith's in one of her brooding moods. I open the door to the passenger seat, ready to go home when I hear her voice.

"Get out." I blink. Excuse me?

"Excuse me?" I sound just as indignant as Willow looks.

"I said, get out. Plain English, B." Angel gets into the driver's seat and settles in. He pauses and gives me a puzzled look.

"What's going on?"

"She won't let me get in." I don't like that my voice sounds whiny. 

"I'm not gonna listen to any bullshit while we're driving back. From anybody, and especially not from you." But...but...

"Faith, just get over it already." Willow's angry. I want to clamp my hand over her mouth before things get worse.

"Fuck you, Red." Okay. Now I really do it. Willow's voice muffles behind my hand. I shut the door with a foot and motion with my head to another car. I don't want to cause any trouble. Not now.

* * *

"What the hell! Buffy! What the hell!" Willow's just repeating herself throughout the whole car ride. Xander grumbled that we didn't have enough room in the car for this, but it's clear to me what's happened.

"She only trusts Angel and Kennedy. I think it would've been harder for her to ride with any of us, too." No, I don't think. I know. Willow just groans with frustration.

Connor and Fred had switched out; Lorne needed a comforting shoulder. He's still sniffling. Cordelia's been quiet throughout the ride, mainly cause she was driving, but it still surprises me. She's never not had anything to say. And I'm right. 

"You guys are stupid if you're surprised. I think I'd have killed you if you'd even taken a look at me. If I was her." I'm surprised she's taking Faith's side. But the Angel Investigations team had all taken to Faith after her absolute loyalty to Angel's safe return. Plus, she feels worse for being a complete bitch to Faith while she was there. I know. I heard that story, too.

"She's a nice girl. I don't understand why you guys..." Fred trails off shyly and pats Lorne's hand comfortingly as he lets out a wail.

What an interesting ride. 

I just want to get home. I just want to sleep. I just want everybody to be alright.

I just hope Faith doesn't run up to her room after we get home. 

* * *

Narrative

Faith wanted to do as Buffy hoped she wouldn't, but she knew it would just make things uncomfortable. Might as well get the uglies out of the way. Kennedy had waken up during the ride and "yelled" at Faith and how she'd lied about waking her up.

"I still can't believe you didn't wake me up. Bitch." Kennedy grumbled. 

"Quit your whining. Just be glad I didn't drop you on your head." Faith retorted.

"Whore." A challenge.

"Slut." Rematch.

"Prostitute." Kennedy glared.

"Tramp." Faith returned.

"Concubine." 

"Courtesan."

"Guys-" Angel started.

"Harlot."

"**Guys-**"

"CUNT!" Game. They both screamed it at the same time, laughing like they were having the time of their lives. Angel couldn't help but laugh with them. He was just glad they were alright. Especially Faith.

Now there they were. Kennedy sat closely by Faith, trying to calm her with her presence. Angel stood nearby, while the others walked in slowly. Angel's group sat a little further away. This wasn't their battle, but they were ready to intervene. For Faith. Their loyalty to her was stronger than their loyalty to the Scooby Gang. Pity, since Faith's need for acceptance was mostly from the ones who hurt her the most. It always seemed to work that way.

_Just...harden yourself, Faith. Just pull up those walls again. You've been doing it for 20 odd years, you can do it again._

"Well..." Xander starts as he settled himself into a chair. Willow, Buffy, and Giles seat themselves into the couch across from Faith.

Awkward silence. 

"Faith, I-I feel the need to explain myself." Giles began stuttering. Faith knew what he was going to say and she didn't want to hear it.

"I wish to apologize. I know that I haven't been very inclusive, since you arrived, and I don't understand how...how I could've missed that." He trailed off, his gaze boring holes into the table separating them.

"It was unfair, and you most definitely deserved a better treatment than was given and has been given to you by...us." Faith's jaw clenched, then relaxed.

"It's cool, Giles." That's all she could muster. 

"Ah..uh...Can I start off with the fact that I was completely inebriated when I spoke those words tonight? Completely, completely out of it. I have no idea where it came from, it was unnecessary and- Ow!" Buffy jabbed Xander in the chest and he winced.

"Right...well...I'm sorry. I just...that's all I can even begin to say now." He looked at her hopefully. She nodded at him once. He sat back, feeling a bit more than dejected, but he knew these things came slow. They all knew. 

Another awkward silence.

Willow made a nearly inaudible squeak when Kennedy reached over to take Faith's hand in comfort. It was unnerving. To watch your girlfriend take the hand of another girl. A girl you had once so hated. Kennedy let go quickly, and Faith had a small smile on her face.

"It's nothing like that, Red. Big sis, lil sis kinda thing. Take care of her, else I'll break your witchy kneecaps." Willow laughed nervously and put her hands over her knees.

"Well I'll try and remember that." Faith stood up, and nudged Kennedy towards the redheaded Wiccan.

"Your girl's waiting for ya, Ken." She turned to meet Angel's gaze, then back to everybody else. There was a moment where a flicker of uncertainty passed over her dark eyes, but it was only noticed by the original Chosen Slayer. 

"Look, there's no reason to stay up cause of me. Y'all are tired, so am I. Let's just...call it a night?" Everyone hesitates, but once she walks away, yet again, the room moves. At least, the occupants do.

Buffy catches Angel's eyes. He jerks his head towards the leaving girl, as if to say, 

_Go get her, Buffy. Go talk to her._

She nods and follows.

* * *

Faith's POV

I swear she's got a thing for following me around everywhere. Whether it's in my head or literally. Even in my dreams she's there. And now, she's followed me to my room. 

"Jesus, B. Don't you ever get tired of looking at my ass?" I plan to keep this conversation as light as possible, even though we both hear the frustration in my voice.

"Well maybe if you quit walking out on things, I wouldn't have to look at it so often." She retorts. I sigh and run a hand through my hair. 

"Close the door, B." She does. I turn around and start taking off my clothes. I don't give a shit who's in my room, I can change if I want to.

"What-"

"I'm changing, B. I'm allowed to do that, right? If you don't want to see, just turn around." She lets out a huff and does as I say. I throw on an oversized t-shirt and some sweats.

"Okay. I'm PG again." Facing me, she's got her arms crossed. In the distance of my well-established, fucked-up mind, I hear warning bells go off. I just plop down on my bed and wait for the lecture. For the hurtful words and idle threats that I try so desperately to ignore. I'm throwing more mud onto the walls so my heart doesn't get mauled by Buffy the Faith Slayer. I mean, it's already too late for my mind; she's always intruding. She's like a fucking computer virus. Everything's about her or compares to her or relates to her or something. I feel like getting a mind-wipe done.

"I'm sorry!" Hater say what! I think my jaw fell open a little. She looks really annoyed. And nervous.

"There. I said it. Are you happy now?" I still have no idea what just happened. Come on, Faith. Quick retort. You can do it.

"Sorry, B. Took me by surprise for a sec...**what** did you say?" Oh this is gonna be fun.

"I'm sorry." She mumbles under her breath. I lift a hand mockingly behind my ear, as if I didn't hear it.

"Still didn't catch that. What?" She narrows her eyes and throws a pillow at me that she grabbed from the floor.

"I said I'm sorry, you jerk!" I catch it with a smile on my face. 

"Whatcha sorry for, B?" Yes. I can go on like this all day.

"Just...some of the things I said." 

"Like what?" I ask innocently. She scowls at me and ignores my question.

"Wrinkles, B. Nobody wants to see their precious Slayer look old and fragile." I point out, pretending to be very concerned. She rubs her chin in mock pretense.

"I see. That's very serious, indeed." I nod. Again, very seriously.

"Yes, my friend. Very fucking serious." She laughs. I laugh. We laugh. 

"I just never...I never apologized to you for all the things I said. And so I guess I'm apologizing." She sits down on the bed near me, I know it's tough for her to say it. I know it is. I hate saying sorry, too.

"I guess so." I try look casually unmoved. But it means a lot. 

"So are we...Are we okay now?"

"It's all good, B. Five by five. You know the deal." She looks relieved. And yet, still very frustrated. I know why. I mean, a simple sorry can never make up for things you do and say. I know. But I've been working those off for years. The Scooby Gang haven't been so...understanding about it. 

"I just wish we knew how to make it up to you." She says softly. Oh boy. Serious conversation. 

"Well I wish I knew the same thing, cause apparently in **my** situation, working my ass off and doing the 'right thing' isn't doing the trick to get you off my case." I'm feeling kind of irritated. Wouldn't you be?

"Sorry." She flushes with embarrassment. 

"We're just stubborn, Faith. We just hold grudges. It's always been us together, like a fam..." Her face turns a shade of red I've never seen before, after she realizes what she just implied. 

Try to save that one, B.

"I meant...I meant to say that we're not used to new people...not that you were new...I mean, you were, but-" She's flustered. 

"What you mean is that you guys are just a bunch of wannabe elites with sticks shoved up your asses so you couldn't trust other people who weren't exactly like you."

Yea, I can get pretty blunt about it. That's basically what she was trying to say, anyways.

"Not quite like that." 

"Oh sorry. I forgot to mention that y'all are still like that. My b...B." Oh yea. I crack myself up. 

"Well we tried to apologize, didn't we?" Frustration creeps up on her voice. I give her a look that says, 'are you fucking kidding me?' Cause if they think I'm gonna get over all of that in one sorry, they're more retarded than I thought.

"Sure, B. You apologized. So did I. Where was **my** fucking parade?" She falls silent. 

Meh. Now I feel bad. Damn my conscience. 

"Look. I'm really glad you guys finally grew a pair and apologized. But Christ, B. It's not gonna be easy for me. I know it wasn't easy for you. Just give it time. I'll get over it." I brush my hair back.

"See, I'm not like your little Scooby Gang. I don't blatantly try to make someone feel worse even after they try to make it up to me. It's not my style. It's fucking rude, and like Xan-Man said, it's unnecessary." I'm just being honest. She flinches a little. But we both know I'm right.

"We were pretty bad, weren't we?" It wasn't really a question. I lean back onto the headboard.

"Understatement of the year, B."

"I've never been so good at listening to other people when I've got my mind set of something." You've got to be joking. What, she's trying to explain herself to me?

"So what's new?" I ask. Honestly, what is? It's not like I didn't know that already. I was seduced by the darkness. Not idiocy. 

Could you imagine it? Retardo Faith. One eye twitching, shrunken limbs, and trying to destroy the world with a broken-record speech. 

Uh. **No.**

"Stop knocking me down, Faith. I'm just trying to have a conversation with you, here. It's been a while." True. I won't deny that.

"Sorry, B. The topic isn't exactly my favorite. I think I already let you know how I felt about the whole Scooby deal." She sighs and leans back next to me. She turns her head and looks at me, and vice versa for me.

"I just want us to get past that."

"It'll just take a while, B. But I'm not gonna guilt-trip you guys about the past as long as you guys don't. I'm not really looking forward to freaking out again."

"Sounds reasonable." We shake hands firmly. It was a deal. We talk a little longer, surface area conversation, nothing big. 

After a bit she yawns and blinks repeatedly. I give her a little nudge.

"Falling asleep on me, B?" As the night went on, she'd snuggled into my bed. **My bed.** _**My bed.**_

_**Mine!**_

"Mmhmm." Oh great. I try to shake her lightly.

"Come on, B. You can't do this to me. I'm a wild sleeper!" As if that matters. She groans and pretends not to hear me. Now it's my turn to groan. Man. Not fucking cool.

I grumble under my breath as I pull off her designer shoes and put her coat up on one of my empty hangers. It looks very alone in the closet with all my leather and denim jackets. I pull the hair tie out of her hair and I'm deciding whether or not I should get her out of her clothes and switch them into more comfortable ones when an idea comes to me. I'm just hoping Red's still up.

And she is. I hear voices behind the door and I knock softly.

"Red? Ken?" Willow opens the door and looks nervous at seeing me. I smile, hoping to let her know that I'm not here to break any kneecaps. Or faces.

"Hey. Um...B just fell asleep on my bed and I can't get her to wake up. Think you could pull some mojo and get her out of her dress clothes? I don't want her to be uncomfortable or whatever." She stares at me looking slightly confused.

"Why don't you just take her to her room?" Oh. Oh yea. Why didn't I think of that? Think quick, Faith.

"Ah...well...I was gonna do that, I just don't want her to be uncomfortable sleeping...in general..." I mumble quickly. She nods in understanding.

"Oh that makes sense. I don't think I need any magic for that. We can just change them for her." What? She must've noticed my hesitance. 

"Never been to a slumber party before, have you?" I shake my head dumbly. 

"Sometimes one girl just goes to sleep early and we have to help change her clothes for her, and- well, nothing big. Come on. Let's go get Buffy pajama-fied!" She struts towards my room briskly. I'm still unnerved.

Pajama-fied?

Alright. So it wasn't so hard. I kind of felt awkward, so I held Buffy at arms length while Willow helped her get out of her clothes. She was groggy and basically out of it. Willow was chastising her the whole time.

"Buffy Summers, you need to learn to..." Blah blah blah. You know Red and her babbling. After she was done um...pajama-fying, Willow motioned for me to carry the useless, sleeping lump of blonde to its proper room. I make a face but I comply. Whatever gets me to sleep faster.

I'm still muttering and swearing at her, something about dragging her sorry ass to the roof and throwing her off and how good of sleep she'll get then, and whatnot. Just the tirades of a sleepy Faith.

I toss her clothes on the floor and lay her gently on the bed. Though it would've been pretty amusing if I'd done the opposite. She immediately makes herself comfortable in her bed and looks content. Lucky her. I wish I could sleep half as well. I roll my eyes and start to walk out. But I stop. There's this really strange feeling that's telling me to...

I look over at the sleeping form. I near the bed, lean over, and kiss her lightly on the top of her head.

I don't know why I do it. 

Shit. I must be out of my mind.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks for the reviews. Things are about to get hopping...**

**More reviews, faster updates. And longer ones. **

**Just sayin'.**

Buffy's POV

It's been a month since we found her and brought her back, but one thing's been on my mind more often than ever.

_She kissed me._

No, she didn't kiss me kiss me. But she kissed me. On my head. While I was near slumber. 

I don't know why I'm making such a big deal out of it, but I'll tell you one thing: It was the best sleep I've had since the fall of Sunnydale. 

It's been an hour since I woke up, but I'm still lying in bed. I've been up since the crack of dawn, and it seemed like a good time to ponder. 

It was just a gesture of friendship. If Willow had done something like that, I would've forgotten by now. It's not anything huge. 

But it was Faith, and that made all the difference.

I remember vaguely, her arms holding me while Willow changed my clothes for me, grumbling noisily. I also remember how stiff her grip was at first, and once she relaxed, it was gentle. Caring, even. But more so than all that, I remember my head against her chest as she carried me to my room, to my bed; her heart had been beating wildly. She wasn't afraid, I'd be able to feel that. She was nervous, I remember...I **think** I remember...

I wish my memories were clearer.

I finally rest my mind of the issue (for now) and get up. After a quick morning shower and a change into jeans and a light blue t-shirt, I head downstairs. I smell burnt eggs and the sound of sizzling bacon. As I step nearer, I hear bits of the conversation.

"Well, I'd say you're just about as bad as Buffy is in the cooking department." I hear Xander's joking tone. I'm not that bad. Really. 

Alright that's a blatant lie, but at least I try.

"Shut up, Xander." Dawn answers huffily. I reach the kitchen and I lean against the doorway.

"At least Faith knows how to save this catastrophe of breakfast foods." Willow pipes this time. Kennedy pecks her on the cheek and takes a bite out of the steaming food that Faith is dishing out by the bowls.

"Yea. I didn't know you were the domesticated type, Faith." She remarks after swallowing it down.

"Can't live on the streets without proper cooking skills, Ken." Faith looks up and her eyes meet mine.

Pause.

"Hey, B." Everyone greets me accordingly thereafter and I'm jostled into another seat. I don't realize how hungry I am until I take a bite. 

Damn. She really is good. It just doesn't register right in my head. Faith and cooking? It's just plain weird. Not that I'm complaining. 

It's even weirder though, that just last month we were all angry, all fighting, all ganging up against Faith, and here we all are again. Except with smiles and all past issues forgotten. She seems to want to move on. To just leave it be. Her face is smiling, and I can't help but marvel at her strength. If it were me, I wouldn't have talked to these people for at least another week or so after the incident. Especially not myself. And I definitely wouldn't be cooking for any of us. But no. She's different now. Still full of anger and sadness, yes. But she doesn't seem to be letting it get in her way of being friendly with us. Not even 2 months ago I wouldn't trust her actions at all. But now I know. Now we all know. She just needs a family, and we're all she ever had. She lost us once, and I know she's afraid of losing us again. We won't let it happen. Not after that night at the club.

"I think I could live off your cooking for the rest of my life." Angel states, voicing all our opinions.

"Well then it's a good thing you're dead, Soul Boy. I ain't cooking for you fuckers everyday." She quickly brandishes the frying pan to ward off oncoming playful slaps and punches. She doesn't notice the orange until after it hits her on the head.

"Oops. It must've slipped." I shrug, trying to hide my grin. She narrows her eyes at me, and I position myself ready. She lunges.

"I'll show you how the pan's gonna slip from my hand to the lump on your head!" I let out a squeal that is completely un-Buffy-like, and run for my life. I dodge lamps, jump tables, turn corners that could wreck a car and I can hear her catching up behind me with a grace only a Slayer could handle. I take a quick glance. She's still waving that frying pan around like a weapon of mass destruction.

"Gotcha, B!" She yells as I stumble over some cords. I manage to balance myself but I skid to a stop right in front of Giles and, in a few seconds, I feel myself knock him over as Faith tackles me. 

Pan, Giles, and all.

"Oh good God!" He gripes. I can't help but giggle.

"I really don't think 'He' had anything to do with it, G-man. Sorry to disappoint ya." Faith's voice mumbles from above my head. We pick ourselves up steadily, and Giles reaches for his glasses to clean them as he does when he's nervous.

"I-I'm afraid we have a spot of trouble, girls." Trouble? Again? I sigh. Just when we're having some fun. I feel an arm thrown around my shoulders.

"What's the what, Giles?" She asks, leaning her weight slightly on me. I can feel my face flush, and the temperature rises. Her head jerks a little towards me, but she contains herself.

"New demon in town." I hear Angel behind us. As well as the rest of the gang. Minus everybody still sleeping.

"Any info on who or what it could be? What it's after?" I ask. It's time for business. We gather loosely in a slight circle.

"That's the hard part. Apparently, not unlike the First, it seems to enjoy stripping the world of Slayers." Wesley muses, as he waltzes into the circle with us. We all groan.

"Another First? I don't think I can handle losing another eye." Xander quips, but I can hear the fear in his voice. We all can. I know how frightened he was. How scared I was. How devastated we all were. But Willow had been searching for a cure. Something to heal his damaged eye. She said she was close. I was relieved. I never forgave myself for the incident, and his eyepatch was a very sore reminder of the miscalculated mistake.

"Don't worry X-man. I won't let it happen." Faith removes her arm from my shoulders and she stares intently at him. He seems rather surprised, as are the rest of us, but he smiles slightly. Sincerely. I can feel her strong determination not to fail. My mind flashes to the time when she spoke of her failure as a leader. When I showed her the scythe. I could hear her thoughts echoing in the back of my mind.

_I'm a failure...I'm nothing __**but**__ a failure..._

I didn't really help much. I tried to convince her that everyone dies in battle, but I had cut her off rudely, when she'd suddenly tried to open up to me. I felt a bit ashamed. More than a bit.

"Not another First. Just a very powerful demon. His last attack was on a girl who claims she was a Slayer." What? A girl who claims...? How does that make any sense?

"What do you mean, claims? How is somebody a Slayer and then not?" It's a question I know needs to be answered.

"Well. Here's the situation." Angel starts to pace. He seems to be doing that more often. 

"She was attacked by a couple vampires, who were all led by the demon in question. He was in desperate need of food, and she said he told her that he was a feeder of Slayer blood, and that his master had been waiting for someone to break the rules and bring into the world hundreds of Slayers. This demon, whatever it is, drinks from Slayers, and the side effects are largely against us." He paused for effect.

"He gains strength, and she loses her power. That's where the vamps come in. They're there to feed off the girl, who is no longer a Slayer. Luckily, some of our friends were patrolling the area and managed to save her." He stops pacing and sighs. 

"So we've got a newly summoned demon who lives off of Slayers, and an unknown all powerful master who **knew** we were gonna bring about all Slayers. Great. Did I miss anything?" That's Kennedy. Oozing with sarcasm. Have I ever mentioned that I really don't like her? Because I don't. It could possibly border along hate. It's a personality thing.

"The vamps, Ken. They've got vamps digging into the leftovers." Faith remarks. Amanda, one of our older and brighter ex-potentials bites her lip nervously.

"That...that's not good. What are we gonna do?" As Slayers go, our newest members are usually iffy when it comes to understanding their skills. 

Except Kennedy. Her and Faith have gotten very buddy buddy over the past month. Sleepovers in each other's rooms. Nights out with only the two of them. Inside jokes, hooked arms, playful slaps, and all that jazz. What gets to me is the pure contentment in Faith's face when she's with Kennedy. It drives me over the wall, because I see the same look in Kennedy's eyes. It's a small change since she got together with Willow, but it's still a change. All the distrust and suspicion in her eyes are gone when she's with Faith. Everything. And with Faith...all that loneliness seems to fade when they're laughing together. I know there's still pain. Still that rage, but it's dimmed down considerably. 

Willow gets nervous a lot about it. When they have sleepovers, so do we. As if we have to compete on whose friendship is stronger. Her babbles return and I know she worries that Faith might whisk her girl away. But then again, neither of us even know if she plays both teams. So she can't base her fears on anything. She's learning to trust Faith more, and Faith herself has been trying to spend more time with everybody, even me. It just bothers Willow that Kennedy might trust Faith completely over her. Did I say might? I mean does. 

"Don't let negative thinking get in your way. It's a sure way to die." Faith's voice drawls. She claps her hands together and rubs them excitedly. Moving her gaze to me, she smiles.

"So. What's the plan, B?" Her eyebrows lift up at me, waiting for a reply. She's got it in her head that she could never be a leader, and I know it kills her. That she will never be good enough for it. It scares me. I don't hear any of her wild suggestions, or even her logical ones. I feel her wanting to spit out things, but she holds it in. She's been a wonderful friend, a good support and working diligently. She really has. But in a couple weeks, she's managed to block her old zesty self from everybody except for Kennedy and Angel. 

Now that's one relationship that bugs the hell out of me. Out of all the friends she could have, her closest ones just happen to be Willow's girlfriend and my dead ex-boyfriend. Who just so happens to be reacting strangely towards her, lately. In a way that makes me undeniably jealous. His hand lingers longer, during meetings his eyes shift to find hers, and he finds reasons to patrol with Faith and only Faith. 

"Faith, we need to discuss strategy." or

"Faith and I need to go pick up something for a case." or

"It's a job for two. I already asked Faith." I find myself nodding stiffly.

If she's not with Kennedy, she's with Angel. If she's not with either of them, she's in the gym. If she's not in the gym, she's eating. And if not that, she's sleeping. And if not any of those...it means she's out. And alone. She never says a word. Most of the time it's late at night: 2, 3, 4 in the morning. I can hear her footsteps softly on the floor, and the very front doors letting out a whoosh of air when it closes behind her. I always wonder where she goes. She never brings anyone home, which is a bit of a relief. But what if she's somewhere else with someone else? Sometimes when I do the laundry, I smell smoke or liquor on her clothes. Most times it's both. But even with my increased sense of smell, I can never smell the scent of another person. It's another relief. Not that I want to know about it, I just worry. What if she gets some sort of disease? Or God forbid, a baby? 

"Uh..Buffy?" I snap out of my daze to see her hand waving in front of my face. Oh. I must've been distracted.

"Sorry. I was...thinking." I smile, and it's a good enough explanation for her. 

That's another thing. She stopped questioning me. After that night, she just quit challenging me. No rude comments, no probing questions, no insulting remarks. Just her and her sarcasm. Which she uses lightly. It freaks me out, and I know it freaks a lot of the others as well. And the only two that doesn't seemed bothered by it? You got it. Kennedy and Angel. I want to shake her out of this pleasantry. I actually miss the brooding, rash Faith.

"We need to gather as many Slayers as we can. We'll research all day, and tonight, we'll search." Giles dishes out orders, after getting an approving nod from me. It sounds fine to me. I grab Willow, and I see Kennedy and Faith high five.

"And Buffy-" I turn as Giles looks me squarely in the eye.

"Be diligent. I cannot stress enough how important finding information is. If this demon is as bad as is described..." He sighed and made to clean his glasses again. 

Everyone heads to the library. 

* * *

We've read up on recent reports. Girls who underestimated their own strength. Complaints of headaches and intensified sensory levels. When I said recent, I meant really recent.

"These are just kids, Buffy. What are we supposed to say to the parents?" Xander asks me.

"We could start with 'Dear Mr. and Mrs. so and so, your daughter's purpose in life is to be stake-happy and save the world from a whole lotta fuckin' evil.'" Faith remarks airily. She hates research as much as I do.

"Oh, that'll go over well." Kennedy rolls her eyes and tosses a book at lightning speed towards my leather/denim-clad colleague. She catches it without looking up. Her senses seem to have become sharper. In need of less aid. Meditation, she'd told me.

"A special school. An opportunity for their child to go to a boarding school. For small cost. For girls with special needs." I explain hurriedly. It was an idea that had been forming in my head for a bit, as well as Giles. Now would be a good idea to put it into action.

"That could take months to years, Buffy. Hypothetically, it sounds like a great plan for the future, but we need something solid now." I had no idea that Cordelia had the brains to be hypothetical. I didn't even know she knew the meaning of the word. Xander must have had the same thoughts.

"Great. **Now** she chooses to be smart." 

"At least I have the capability of being smart."

"What are you saying? Ow! What was that for!"

"Xander, just shut up." 

"No need to attack the man, Will. Geez."

"Man? Where?"

"Et tu, Dawn?"

"Xander, did you just happen to quote Shakespeare?"

"Why yes I did, Giles. Impressed?"

"I hardly expected the feat of Shakespearian quotations from you, my dear boy. Have I ever referred to you the fascinating tale of-"

"GILES!" We chorus. His eyes twinkle at me and I realize he was just trying to shut us up. Faith stifles a laugh and I know she got that, too. We all fall into silence as we continue our research. By dinner-time, we're exhausted. You wouldn't expect us to be, just sitting in a chair and reading. It's devastating on your health, I tell you. Anybody here would agree. Other than our lovely Wiccan, Wesley, and Giles. For us Slayers and non-dorks, research **is** the extreme sport.

"A camp? For at least a week. Expense-free, just to test them. See if they're qualified for the future school. Then we can keep them safe while we work." I try again. But I know that's still risky. Angel walks in briskly and saves the day. Or night.

"We've contacted the authorities. They'll be enforcing a curfew, and a general warning to the public." Everyone seems relieved, and Giles nods approvingly.

"Very good, Angel. It keeps that issue off of our hands for the moment. Who shall be patrolling tonight?" We all hesitate. It's dangerous, and risky. If we send out Slayers, things could get out of control. The idea that we could be stripped of our powers...

It's more frightening than anything else we've had to deal with.

"We can't risk taking more than one Slayer, and we can't risk sending out any less. I'll go." 

"Buffy, of all people, you are the one we cannot risk losing to this."

"Yea, Buffster. Definitely can't let you go on out on a suicide mission."

"That's a no go on the lone Slaying, Buffy." I am going up against a stern ex-Watcher, a one-eyed dork, and the resolve face. I sigh.

"Well what can we do?" Nobody can answer the question. Nobody suggests anything. Several girls have their faces in books, snoring. Others are still reading, half-conscious. The only person who seems to be reading through ten books at a time is Faith. Even Willow doesn't go that fast. Though she's often distracted by Kennedy. 

Faith doesn't seem to get distracted anymore. 

But she's tense. I can sense it. Her muscles are tight, and I know the words she's trying to read aren't registering; she keeps passing over the same page three, four times. She's listening to our conversation, she wants to say something, but like always, she's holding back. I see Kennedy look up, and I know she feels the tension as well as I do. Concerned, she leans over and places a comforting hand on her shoulder. I fight the urge to smack it off. I don't have time for this. I need to stay focused.

"I just don't think we've got time." I'm feeling frustrated. I know we all are. 

"Perhaps, because this demon **is** newly summoned..."

"We don't know how many super-strong Slayers it could take and..."

"The girls are definitely up for a challenge, Buffster..."

"So we're all going!" They all shout. I blink. These girls, not so long ago just Potentials, and now they're exuding confidence like they've never before. It's exhilarating. It feels nice. Like maybe I'm not alone after all. And I know I'm not. Yea. I'm totally up for it. This demon's ass is ours. We've got near thirty well-trained Slayers on full charge. Two of which are the Chosen. Strangely, I'm not all that worried anymore.

"I'm going too, Buffy. Mojo support, at your service!" Willow salutes me with a grin.

"I'll continue on the research with the those of us staying back." Giles is definitely back in the Watcher mode.

"I'll gather my team. We'll provide backup." We watch Angel walk out.

"And I, my lovely ladies, will be providing the donuts when you return from yet another successful mission!" Xander's beaming again. I love him so much for his optimism. Even through everything...

"Now, let's not underestimate this demon. You must all take precaution, and stick to whatever irrational-sounding, recklessly-insane plan that Buffy dishes out. They always seem to pan out remarkably well." 

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Giles."

"My pleasure, Buffy."

In a few moments, everybody's got in hand their favorite weapons, and I decide it'd be for the best if all the Slayers stick together. 

"Angel, any sign of trouble and I need you to come out guns a'blazing. If there's no trouble, come at full force, strike at the weakest points. Pick off stragglers." He nods at me very professionally. And we're set.

Let's go. I'm ready to Slay.


	13. Chapter 13

**Please review! Thanks to those who already have.**

Faith's POV

Something's just not itching me the right way, and I know exactly what it is.

It's this goddamn attack team we've got planned. 

I keep remembering the night at the vineyard. Our hopes. Our confidence. Destroyed by a single bastard donned in clothes that screamed "fashion disaster" to the max.

I mean, I get the hype. My Slayer side is jumping up and down in ecstasy, itching for some excitement. But the logical side - yes, I do have one - is telling me otherwise. I just don't want another fiasco. None of us do. I know we're all feeling good about our team. We beat the First; hell, everybody deserves a hundred awards for that. And for these past few weeks, it felt like nothing could harm us. I'm not looking forward to having some new demon kicking our ass down right afterwards. Plain old fucking party pooper. I'd have to beat his ass. Because everyone's happy. Things are all good. Sure, it's been rocky because of the deal between me and the Scoobies, but that's purely social, and I've been working it out. But this, this is something different. Something's flashing "Danger", and it's not doing anything to help my mood. 

And let me tell you. My mood has been nothing short of borderline psychotic. Oh sure, I've been real nice to everybody, a real asset to the team. I follow orders and I fell into routine. I've been spending time with everybody, one on ones all around. But the only two I can manage to be myself around are Kennedy and Angel. Jesus, you have no idea. They keep me from slipping up all the time. And I help them, too. 

Kennedy's got some deep-rooted history. Things she refuses to say bother her, but can't overlook. I know she hasn't really said much to Willow about it. It's tough for her. But I guess my own past is a prime example of fucked up, cause she ends up like a leaking faucet and I act as the rag that mops the tears up. It's not so much that I share with her, but the idea that someone depends on me, **trusts** me like she does...it makes me feel wanted. Needed, even. Our sleepovers start off with games, jokes, gossip, normal girly stuff that I'm not usually comfortable with, to deeper conversations. And sometimes, when it's hard for her to get it out, she gets angry. Bitter. And it's my job to force it from her. To make her face her personal demons, and to come to amends. Like this one time, when she was trying to tell me about her step-dad...

* * *

"He was a dick if I ever knew one. I hated him. One time my sister..."

Silence.

"...Ken?"

"Mm?"

"Your sister...?"

"Oh...right..." She jerked her head and looked away from my gaze.

"It was nothing. Nevermind."

Pause.

"Well I guess it's time to sleep. Night Fai-"

"Finish your story, Ken."

"...I told you, it's nothing."

"It's obviously not nothing. Just spit it out."

"Back off. It's none of your fucking business." She'd tried to turn off the bedlight, but I grabbed her and pulled her out of the bed.

"What the-!"

"You keep saying it's nothing, then why is it so hard for you to talk about it?"

"Fuck you, I don't need to deal with this shit." I blocked the path to the doorway and crossed my arms. Signature Faith style, baby.

"Yes, you do, Kennedy. What happened?"

"Get out of my way."

"No."

"Move, Faith."

"Make me, Ken." I smirked. 

Well, she definitely has a pair of balls larger than I'd originally thought, cause she punched me in the face as soon as I said it. I wasn't taking that kind of crap, so I grabbed her by the arms and slammed her into the wall.

"You listen to me, Kennedy, and you listen fucking hard. You hit me again, I'll beat your face in so hard even Red won't recognize you. I bet that's what happened to your sister, too, huh? Did something stupid, and got her ass beat by that dick of a step-dad of yours, didn't she? What'd you do, Ken? Just watch? Did she scream, hm? Did she-" 

With a strangled yell she kicked me, heel to abdomen, and I stumbled over some clothes. She was on me like a lion, beating me with her fists, and I wasn't stopping her. She needed to get it out. All that anger that I know she was holding in. She was half-shouting her words in between her punches.

"You..don't...even...know...!"

"So...ungh...why don't you...fucking...ungh...tell me?"

She kept going on and on, grunting and yelling, and I let her hit me until my face was bruised and I couldn't breathe without swallowing blood. When she just couldn't hurt me anymore, when the anger was gone and all that was left was her pain, she just curled up into ball and cried. I sat up and held her to me, rocking back and forth, and she threw her arms around my shoulder and bawled. I shushed her softly, telling her that it was alright, that it would be okay.

"He...she didn't even...it was just a mug...a fucking mug..."

"It's okay...it'll be alright..."

"He just wouldn't stop...mom was screaming, but he wouldn't stop...all the alcohol..."

"It's alright..."

"He kept smashing the bottle into her face...only eight years old...only eight..."

I just held her as she shook.

"She died in my arms...I didn't even...I couldn't even protect her...I should've saved her..."

She sobbed out the last words and I squeezed tighter.

"What could you have done to help her? You were still a kid, too. At least she knew what love was, Kennedy, she died in loving arms, and that's all that matters." 

"No...I could've...I should've..."

I shook her and made her look into my eyes.

"You couldn't have done anything, Ken. It wasn't your fucking fault and you know it. So **don't** ever blame yourself for your sister's death, and **don't**ever hold yourself responsible for the things the bastard did. If she was here she'd go around breaking **all** your damn mugs for hurting yourself like this."

I wasn't sure if I'd gotten through her, what with her blinking gaze and all, but then she started sniffling and wiping her tears away.

"You think so?"

"I know so. Now clean yourself off. You look like a fucking nightmare." She laughed through her tears and all her snotty goodness.

"Look who's talking." I rolled my eyes at her and we both help each other up. She cleaned herself in about ten minutes and stopped to look at me.

"What?"

"Maybe we should clean you off, too." I groaned and got up grumbling. My body was sore as hell and I scrunched up my nose at the sight of the first-aid kit she was holding. Great. First aid. 

I guess it made sense. She'd done some physically noticeable damage to my face, so to speak. If I wasn't all about the good deeds, I would've knocked her flat. As I'd sat myself on the toilet seat, I checked it out in the mirror. They have those in bathrooms, if you didn't know already. My bottom lip was cut and swollen, and bruises were so commonplace that any patch of non-purple skin stuck out like a sore thumb. 

"Shit! Ken, watch it. Ow!" I don't like rubbing shit onto my wounds. It normally makes it hurt more.

"Suck it up, you big baby. I'm almost done." She finished the final touches of her healing job and she sat on the counter. The way she was swinging her legs, I knew she was nervous.

"Listen, Faith...I didn't...I'm really sorry about-"

"Fuck it, Kennedy. No hard feelings. I know." I smirked and she chuckled.

"I thought you were gonna make me unrecognizable if I attacked your face again." 

"Yea, well. I guess I could let you off this once."

"You did provoke me, after all."

"Anything to break through that thick headed skull of yours. Crying helps, doesn't it?" 

More pausing. This is starting to be a recurrent theme in my conversations with people.

"Ken, I know I said some harsh things, and I'm sorry. I just needed to get through. Not big on letting my friends hurt like that." She started sniffling. 

Oh no. I didn't mean for a second bout of waterworks. She kind of did that weird laughing thing that some people do when they're crying. 

"You're such a bitch." She said. I sighed in relief. 

"One and only, baby." I flashed her a real smile and regretted it. She's not hardly as strong as I am, but it's like shooting into a bulletproof vest. It doesn't do major damage, but if you think that vest is still 100 percent, you're wrong. Weird analogy, but if you don't get it and I do, you're fucking retarded.

Just sayin'.

"I've seen you cry." She said thoughtfully. Not that the statement was all that thoughtful, it was just the way she said it.

"Yea. Not one of my best moments." I leaned myself against the back of the toilet. Uncomfortable, but I deal with what I get. 

"But they didn't really break through your walls. You stopped yourself. It was like taking a peek and then slamming it shut." I groaned inwardly. Now that she was feeling better, it was time to psycho-analyze Faith. 

Uh uh. That's not gonna be how it goes. Not if I say it isn't.

"Figured it wasn't a good view for you young'ns. But now it's really time for sleep. So-"

"Why do I get to cry and you don't?"

"'Cause I'm cool like that."

"Oh and I'm not?"

"Basically. Ow!" She whacked me with a towel. 

"Someone's gonna get through eventually, Miss Tough Girl."

"Yep, that's me. Bad to the last fucking bone." We left it at that. I remember in the morning, everybody was giving me weird looks. Slayer healing had kicked in, but it's no miracle worker. I still had some major bruises and my lip was still cut. But that's not the point.

The point is that Kennedy needed me, and I was able to help her. I don't know if anybody will ever understand how amazing that felt. She wasn't using me, or asking me to do something. She needed, and I provided. I helped someone. 

And it didn't end up with a corpse and blood on my hands.

* * *

Then there's Angel. Soul boy. Fang. My fucking savior. I'm not much for Jesus, and religion has never helped me any, but I **worship** the ground that vamp walks on. Figuratively. I still joke around and make him uncomfortable and all that, but I love him. And everybody knows it. I make it be known that no matter who or what is going on, I'll always back him through anything. Funny thing is, he loves me too. And that makes all the difference. It's a little weird for us to have sleepovers, so we make up excuses to get out on our own. Go out for coffee, or icees, even. He must've listening to my rant about the Mayor that night. I know it really got to him. He's apologized near a hundred times already, and I keep telling him that it's alright and I was just overreacting.

"No, you weren't. You were upset, and you were right to have told us off."

"Technically, Angel, I was mostly telling off the Scooby Gang."

"I didn't know you were much for technicality, Faith."

"I'm not. It's just so I can put your tiny vampire brain at rest so you don't start saying sorry again."

"Well I am."

"I know." I said softly. He sighed and looked around. It was a beautiful night, what with all the city lights and the hustle and bustle of people rushing to get home. Of course, me and Fang have nothing to worry about. 

Superpowers help that way. 

"You pulled through, Faith. And I know it's been tough, but we're really proud of you." Well damn if my heart didn't stop for a moment. 

"You know me. All about the good deeds...now." I whispered the last word under my breath, and I remember his head turn slightly towards me. I know he heard it.

"It wasn't all your fault. We didn't-"

"It's not a big deal, Angel. It's over and done with." I was feeling snappy, and he backed off. 

"Sorry. Just not feeling the emotional breakdown right now."

"I understand." 

I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt his arms around me. Gentle, but firm. Turning me around, he gazed into my eyes before he kissed me on the forehead. Lightly. I was shocked. My reflexes weren't working and I guess he took that as permission, cause he continued to kiss me from my head, to my eyes, to my cheeks, and finally my lips. 

Let me tell you right now, before anybody starts getting on my case about it, I hadn't done shit with anybody in a while. There was the long incarceration, the Angelus fiasco, the First, the breakdown at the club. No time whatsoever to do anything. Don't get me wrong, I've wanted to, but I haven't. Something just told me I couldn't. That I shouldn't.

But when his lips locked with mine, all coherent thoughts? Went bye bye. I felt the need rising from within me as our lips met, and it went from kissing to making out in five seconds flat. He's a good kisser, that Angel. I guess years and years of living as a dead man allows for perfection in those matters. And me? Hell. I know I'm a good kisser. When it comes to sex, I'm good at a lot of things. Toughest guy in the world is made jello at my feet. Anyways, so it gets wilder. More passionate. He reached for my shirt and I've already tugged off his jacket. But here's the kicker. 

I stopped. I forced myself to back away. I pushed him away and I pulled my shirt back down. The look on his face was so confused and pitiful, it almost made me laugh. Almost.

"What...Faith?" I picked up his coat and I handed it back to him.

"Here. You're probably cold." I failed to mention that the temperature had risen while we were busy liplocking. But through me. Not through him. Dead man. Kinda hard to produce heat. He knocked it away and grabbed me again. His lips were on my lips when I shoved him off the second time.

"No." I had to be firm. 

"Why?" 

Damnit, Angel. 

It's not like I didn't want to fuck til I burst. It's just that I didn't want to fuck...him.

"I can't, Angel. You're the one person in the world I can trust, and I can't do that if we **fuck** on top of some decrepit building like some sleazy pieces of shit." He rubbed his temple and pulled me in close with one arm. I let him.

"I was going more for the romantic sex on a rooftop scene, but...I'm sorry. I didn't...I wasn't thinking." 

"Maybe if things had been different, but this isn't right, Angel. You know it isn't right. Plus, I'm not gonna play second choice to our favorite top dog." Yea, I was being pretty sarcastic near the end of that. 

"That's not why..."

"Heard the story, Soul Boy. Not fooling me, no way, no how." I grinned at him cheekily. He looked so embarrassed, I felt I should let him off the hook, but I didn't.

"I get it. Slayer vibes and whatever. But I ain't Buffy, and I sure as hell know better than to play for that kinda shit." He laughed nervously.

"Guess you would know. Always were a good reader." 

"Damn right. Don't worry, Fang. I'm sure you'll get her back eventually." Shaking his head, he looked up at the sky.

"That's been over the day I left. I guess I'm still having withdrawals." I smacked him in the stomach.

"Hey. We've all got needs. Nobody's blaming ya." 

We grinned at each other and kept joking. Yea, me and Angel, we're like brother and sister. We know the score, and we look out for each other. Maybe if things had played another way, we could've had something. But they didn't, and this is as good as it was gonna get.

* * *

But again, I'm totally off mark. Where was I? Oh yea. 

Me doing good, being all reformed, la la...dark mood, trying hard...new demon, aha. Patrol.

I'm still not feeling good about it. I know everyone's itching to Slay, but something's just not right. I want to tell Buffy, but she's too engrossed with the mission. And besides. Why listen to **this** failure of a Slayer? It's not like I want to play leader again. I'd end up killing more people than I care to.

So I stay silent. And alert. If things do get bad, I plan to do what I can to save them.

We're walking in silence, nervous, but the girls are confident. 

Good, right? 

No. **Bad.**

Confidence is just another way of overlooking something. Agh. Fuck. I don't know why this is bothering me so much.

You know, I've been really quiet lately. Especially over the last two weeks. Saying things just stopped being important. I keep to myself now, and I know it bugs the hell out of Buffy. She keeps trying to get me to talk, but I can't. Everything's different. It's like I'm stuck in a rut. I'm not spiraling downwards, but I'm not really climbing mountains. I'm in a place where it feels like nobody can get me out. Kennedy and Angel have been trying to push me forward, but even training, clubbing, Slaying...**nothing** is getting me out. No matter what, I'm gonna feel out of place, but that's the scary thing. It stopped hurting. 

This pain? Numbed down, like I've been shooting up or something. 

No rage. 

No anger. 

No sorrow. 

Just _**nothing.**_

I keep up my bad girl attitude, and people think I'm still all about the hurting and depressed scene, but I'm not. 

Suddenly it feels like I lost something that I can't get back.

* * *

It's been an hour or so. My edge is beginning to wear off, but this nervous thing isn't going away. 

_Crash!_

We hear it and everyone's tense. Ready to kill if need be. 

It came from the dumpy parking garage nearby, and I want to pull Buffy aside and tell her just how much of this is screaming "trap." But who am I to say a word? So I don't. As if she'd heard me, she hesitates and turns to look at us, her gaze finally resting on mine. It's quickly taken away by another crash and a cry for help. Now we really can't walk away. She motions us in.

We barge in like it's a military shut down, and there's some vamp feeding on an already dead motherfucker. With an angry grunt, Buffy throws down with him and ends up on top. She's about to slay him when he starts laughing.

"It's too late now, Slayer. My death only acts as a means towards your massacre." She stopped.

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" We all crowd around in a semi circle, listening close. 

"The end is near..." He continued laughing. Maniacally. Talk about a fucking nut-job. She dusts him angrily. I feel it's my duty to say something about now.

"B, we need to get out of-" Then the lights went out, and some of the girls screamed. I don't know why I didn't feel it before, all those vamps. It's crawling under my skin like insects and it's disgusting. Repulsive. And there's that weird pulsing noise that's seemingly echoing in the large area, the sound reverberating off the concrete walls.

"How kind of you to bring my pets their food." 

I black out before I knew what hit me.


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry about the cliff-hanger...**

**Okay, so I'm not sorry. But here we are, back into action. Review, or I won't update, I swear it.**

Narrative

When Faith finally woke up, several lights were on. She was chained to a chair, as were the other girls. It seemed she was the first one up. But she knew what to do now. She feigned sleep, and there were dozens of thoughts flicking through her head. 

Where were they? She peeked quickly. Same place, it seemed.

Any casualties? She looked again and counted. Nope. Everyone was alive.

Who were the captors? Well, there was nobody around, with the exception of a few vampires on guard. She could sense something on a different level of the building, and that irrepressible pulsing was still there. She almost flinched when a door behind her slammed open.

"Are any of them awake yet, Julian?" That voice. It was the same one she'd heard before she was knocked out. There was a slight accent. Romanian, she thought. One of the vampires stood up taller and opened his mouth to answer.

"Sleeping like lambs, Boss." Faith cringed inwardly at the term, but suppressed the feelings. Now was not the time for memories. 

"Let us wake them up." The guards grinned and the one nearest to her turned and slugged her across the face.

"Wake up, sleeping beauty!" Her eyes flashed angrily when she opened them, and he stepped back uncertainly. But remembering who was tied up and who wasn't, he leered.

"Good morning, sunshine." He patted her cheeks roughly and she spat at him.

"When I get out of these, I'll make sure you're the first one to turn into dust, vamp." Laughing, he turned away, then landed another punch across her face. Her cheekbone was bleeding profusely, and her lip was beginning to swell, but the most frightening sight that weakened the vampire to the core was her smile. It was cold, heartless. Brutal.

"I'll be waiting." He shuddered and walked away as she, in reverse, started laughing.

Faith let her laugh reside and re-assessed her situation. Their situation. The girls were beginning to awaken, with bruises and cuts similar to hers, as the vampires went chair to chair and slapped, punched, kicked them awake. She fumbled with the cuffs. Steel. Magic reinforcements. Damn. These guys had it thought out. If maybe she could get someone to break through...

Willow. Of course. 

* * *

_Willow..._

Willow shivered. She'd been rudely awakened with a slap and her cheek was stinging. Now what, she thought.

_Hey...Red..._

Her eyes widened and searched out another pair that was looking directly at her. Faith?

_Can you hear me? _

She gave a slight nod. Faith looked relieved and returned a small smile.

_Sweet. Alright. I've checked it out a little bit before you guys were awake. We're still in the garage, nobody's dead, but these chains are definitely holding up to Slayer standards. Think you could figure out some mojo before we all die?_

Willow thought for a moment. Her mind worked desperately and something clicked. She allowed herself a smile. Perfect. Glancing back at Faith, she gave another nod.

_Good. Just work on that. I'll try to think of something to buy us some time._

Then, just like that, the connection was gone. What in the name of Goddess happened? Since when did Faith start doing instant messaging through the mind? But she knew now wasn't the time for questions. She thanked whoever gave Faith that power and started concentrating on the chains. 

Faith herself had been shocked. It was just an experiment. A last resort type of thing. So she just started calling out to Willow with her thoughts. And what the hell, it worked. She spent a little time reveling in her newest achievement when she sensed her. 

Buffy. She was awake. 

* * *

Buffy Summers was not happy. Not happy at all. In fact, she was thoroughly pissed off. Another trap? Another mistake? It made her want to scream. At least she didn't see Angel or any of his crew around. Maybe they had a chance. She strained against the chains and realized exactly what Faith did. If Willow could get them out, they had double the chances. She looked over, but Willow looked preoccupied with a spot on the floor in front of her. 

"So. This is what all of you were afraid of. These 'powerful' and 'mighty'...Slayers." The man in front of them was oozing with power, with an aura that demanded terror and respect. He was tall, thin, bald with sharp black beady eyes. There was an intricate symbol tattooed on his scalp, but Buffy couldn't make it out. He made a disapproving face at the girls who were all struggling to get out. 

"Now now, ladies. It's rude to try and leave so early in our visit."

"Master. My food." There was a deep grating voice, resonating from the pulse and from the darkness. The tall man laughed and motioned it from where it stood. It came forward into the light, and Buffy's blood seemed to freeze in her veins.

A demon, no doubt, the size of an average man. That would've been the only relief. There was no iris and no pupils in those eyes. Just white with red veins slithering over it like roots. Its skin was translucent, and you could see everything. From the arteries, to the bones, to the organs. And smack dab in the center of his chest was the source of the pulse. Its heart. It throbbed against the skin, as if begging to rip apart the flesh, and it was swollen in comparison to the demon's body. The Master patted the...thing...with a compassion that could only resemble one between a man and his dog.

"A roomful, my pet. A feast for your growing powers." The beast growled in satisfaction. 

"Aren't we lucky, my friends? It's like an all-you-can-eat buffet! And to think, we have the one and only Chosen Slayer here with us." He reached over and grasped Buffy's chin and brought it forward forcefully. He laughed.

"I am honored to be in such powerful presence. Now, you may be the one to choose who goes first. Who shall it be? Hmm?" Buffy broke his grip from her face and snarled angrily.

"You will have nobody, if I can help it." She watched in horror as he chortled and pointed to one of the girls struggling to break free. The demon moved so quickly, she couldn't scream. The girl was dead in seconds. 

"NO!" Buffy shrieked, wrists bleeding from how hard she pulled. Several of the other girls began to cry, and this only made things more amusing for the tormentor.

"Perhaps you don't understand. You believed what my pet told you, that he alone could take the powers of a Slayer by feeding? Tsk tsk tsk." He shook his head with a grin.

"A fabricated lie. Fools, underestimating an unknown enemy. How strong will you be once **I** strip you of your powers?" His eyes glowed red as blood and he muttered a chant under his breath. A darkness seemed to grow in his hands, which were cupped over each other, making a mass of black nothingness. As every girl struggled, the power forced their breaths to stop, and suddenly, the room was engulfed with darkness. 

When the light returned, the loss was devastating. 

* * *

Faith's POV

I felt it. I felt my Slayer powers leaving my body, as if it was tearing away from my body towards that darkness. But when it flashed, it was back inside me. It was surging, more powerful than before, more charged, and damn if it didn't feel good.

But when do good things last? I felt something else and it scared me to wits end, and what I felt was nothing. Absolutely nothing. I look around and I know what happened. It's gone. The girls, their powers. Gone. Sucked off into the fucking black. I couldn't feel anybody, and it was back to that feeling of loneliness. That familiar sense of nothing. I can't even feel Buffy. 

Oh god. Buffy.

I turn to face her, but I wish I hadn't. Her face. Her expression. She's trying to hide it, but I can read her just as well without Slayer connection. She's devastated. She's in a state of numbing shock. So am I, but I guess it can't be as bad as what she's feeling. Everything she knew, everything she was comfortable with. Gone. I want to cry for all of them, they all look like they had their souls ripped out. But I had a plan forming and I wasn't going to risk it.

While he was doing his whole speech, I was trying to contact Angel. Mind-wise. Ever since our magical mind walk, our connection was as strong as ever.

_Angel?_

Nothing.

_Angel? Hey! Soul Boy!_

I felt a slight twinge in my mind. It was a fucking weird sensation, but it was like a piece of heaven.

_Can you hear me, Fang? _

Another nudge against my brain.

_Awesome. I'm gonna take that as a yes. Listen. We're all stuck in here, chained up. Red's working on the mojo that's in the chains. I've got a plan, but I need you to do exactly as I say. I know you're outside the building, but don't come charging in here until I tell you to. I'll get back to you, kay? _

A calm wave washed over me, and I know he heard.

So now, the bastard's going on, mocking Buffy and how useless she is. And it's right down pissing me the fuck off.

"I'm afraid you walked into a trap again, Slayer. And it has cost you your powers, and soon, your lives. Once my pet has received his share of blood, your world will be forever under darkness." I can't stand the tears rolling down her face. I want to kill him, but then something changes. 

The chains. Their restraining powers are gone. My eyes meet Willow's. She nods. I close my eyes in satisfaction.I hope I can reach the girls, even if they don't have powers anymore. I'm still not quite sure how this mind thing works. But God, let it work.

_Hey girly girls. Follow my lead. Auntie Faith will get you suckers out of here._

I think it works. I feel their eyes glance towards me quickly.

_Don't look at me, dumbasses. _

They turn away.

I pull my lips into a sneer, and I start laughing. Loudly. Now everybody looks at me. That one vamp who fucked with me earlier storms over and slaps me in the face to stop me laughing.

"What's so funny, bi-ungh!" 

What's funny, vamp? I'll tell you what's funny. It's my hand squeezing the shit out of your throat. Like this. 

I keep laughing as he's choking under my grip. This is gonna be fun. My other hand breaks out of the chains with ease and in one punch I manage to toss him across the room. I yawn lazily and wiggle my fingers in front of everybody. Time to bring out the bitch in me.

"So. Mr. Romania thinks we walked into a trap, huh?" I snort at his obvious dismay. I saunter around, sexily, like I've got all the time in the world.

"You know, I thought the demons in Sunnydale were dull. Hell if they aren't dumber here. I was hoping for a challenge." The insult stings. It was meant to. He growls an order.

"Get her!" Four of them lunge. Uh uh uh. These fuckers never learn.

Block. Jab. Roundhouse. One down.

Deflect. Cross hook. Stomp kick. Two down.

Duck. Uppercut. Axe kick. Three down.

Glower. Fourth runs. 

I laugh again and give him my best sexy-girl smirk. Then I walk up to his "pet" and stroke his face lovingly, voice husky.

"Your master thinks he's so smart, doesn't he? Then tell me why he didn't know who the **real** Chosen Slayer was? Hmm?" He (I'm assuming it's a he, or was a he before it turned into an it) shudders noticeably and moans when I stroke him near his groin. I'm telling you. Once a male, always a male. And of course, without his master's orders, he can't do shit. This is good. I whirl around to smile at the Master.

"You..you're...But it can't be!" Now that's one flustered look. His remaining vamps are shuffling, too. Ooh. Big bad Faith's got'em scared. 

"You think you got us in a trap, you think you took away our powers, and you thought it'd be easy? Oh, that's a **fucking** laugh." And yep, I'm laughing again. 

_Angel, whoever's out there guarding the place, make some commotion. Send one of them in looking like shit with some serious message._

I love Angel. I really do. Cause in less than three seconds, we're hearing several screams, a thump, and the door being jostled open. One of the Master's vamps are running in, bloody nose, swollen eye, the whole enchilada. 

"Boss! A whole army...we couldn't stop them...we-" I end his words with a poof. Who says extra stakes aren't useful? 

_We've got them spooked. When I say the word, run in and break the girls out. I'm the only one here with powers left._

"So it looks like the rest of our army is on time. You're in quite a sitch here, 'Master'. Whatcha gonna do?" I grin. He glowers. He's hating the grin. I know. 

Everybody hates the grin. 

"Let us go, Slayer. The odds are against us."

"They were against us just a minute ago, you bastard."

"You are bound by the rules of justice. You cannot kill helpless creatures." Oh **this** is a fucking hoot. Honestly. I'm cracking up, knee-slapping and all.

"Helpless creatures, huh?" I grab the nearest vamp and stake him with a single fluid motion. I'm digging this power. Add my techniques, and I feel like a god. I guess I should watch it. Don't really want to turn bad again.

"That's what I say about your rules of justice bullshit." I see him waving his hands, about to chant some words, but I hear another chant behind me. 

_Go Red!_

Sparks fly and I know whatever he was trying was deflected. Now his eyes aren't just surprised and irritated. There's fear, too.

"Did I forget to mention that magic just happens to be a large specialty in our army? Plus all the good demons, vampires, sorcerers...and the Slayers? Whoo. That's a whole lotta fucking power that you've been trying to go up against. You up for it? Cause here I am, Slayer in the flesh. Fight me, come on!" 

He steps aside and barks an order to his pet. As it lunges towards me with deadly looking claws, I yell.

"Angel! NOW!" 

All hell breaks loose as Angel and his crew jump in, fighting vamps left to right. The girls are swearing and shouting motivation, as Gunn and Connor are breaking through the chains. I whoop loudly and let go. The demon's strong as hell, but Giles was right. It's weak, and still needs food. Angel tosses me a sword and I stab the ugly beast through. And voila, it's gone. I grin crazily but that stops as soon as I feel something go through me. I look down. 

Oh great. I'm not liking this whole irony thing. I fall on my knees. There's a blade sticking out the front of my gut. Not so good. 

I feel myself being lifted, turned and slammed into the wall. Nobody took that blade out, so the hilt is now deeply embedded in my back. And it hurts like hell. Guess who's face I see when I open my eyes? 

"Double irony, dear girl. You may have tricked me, but here we are. You at my mercy." The man's a demon himself, I can tell. His nails are digging into my flesh like it's butter. I smirk and kick him off me. I land on my feet and brush myself off.

"Easily remedied, asshole." He ran at me with another sword. I dodge quickly and disarm him. The sword's in my hand and I'm ready to stab this bastard through and through.

"So you must be the dark Slayer. That explains it, now doesn't it? Evil cannot affect evil, no matter how much it pretends to be good. You think you're helping your friends? You're only prolonging the pain you are sure to bring them." Well. That comment kind of stings. A lot. And it just pisses me off even more. But the problem is, there's a glint in his eyes that reminds me of someone I used to know...

"Join me, Slayer. Evil should always stick together. They will betray you, like they have before, and they only expect you to do the same." I get a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach, and his voice suddenly changes into someone else's. His face so familiar...

"Faith!" Angel's calling me. 

"You've been doing such a great job, Faithy. A bang up job, firecracker. You know I've always been with you, even when you reformed. Always my stubborn little girl, aren't you? My little Faith..." My heart's in my throat about now, and for some reason, my vision's blurring.

"Faith!" Angel's voice is louder now, and it's enough to shake me out of it.

I turn and it gives the 'Master' enough time to escape. Damnit. I should've killed him.

"We gotta go!" He points up. I look. 

Oh. The building's about to collapse. Great. 

I nod and help guide everybody out. By that I mean I'm shoving people out the doors like nobody's business. 

Gunn finally finishes Buffy's chains and tries helping her up, but she's not moving. Look like she's still in shock. I sigh.

"Go!" I yell at him, motioning towards the door. He gives me a funny look, but he does what I say. I glance at her, just sitting there, while the building's ready to crush us both.

"Well, don't complain about harassment, B. Just need to get our favorite heroine out of here." I carry her bridal style, and hold her tightly against my chest as I run. 

Fuck. The roof broke our way to the doors. Looks like the windows are all we've got. I shut my eyes close and jump. We crash through and I twist myself so that my body cushions the blow on Buffy. Bad fucking idea, cause I never took that blade out. I lie there, trying hard to breathe, when I start seeing everyone's faces gather round. Buffy's finally out of her daze and she's scrambling off me. I guess the top half of the blade must've broken off, cause I can't see it.

"Next time...I'm gonna...fucking listen...to my instincts..." I mumble grouchily and mercifully pass out.


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks guys, your reviews are the best. And so here we go!**

Buffy's POV

I can't look. At her face, her body, I can't even bear looking at the door of her room.

We're all in the lobby. We went to the hospital, but now we're back. Most of us are given antiseptic and bandages for our cuts, but there are several serious injuries.

Connor nearly had his arm severed off, and Gunn had two deep gashes in his leg. They were the ones cutting us loose, so they were main targets. 

And then there's Faith. 

One of the girls threw up then and there, as soon as she saw her. It was a horrible night, and the sight of blood will do that to you, especially if you're not brimming to the edge with superpowers anymore. I don't even remember how we got her this far. I was so scared we were going to kill her if we pulled the sword out of her body. That she'd bleed to death on the way and I wouldn't be able to stop it. God, she was so pale. 

We've both been through some tough injuries, but this is by far the worst I've seen. The blade through her body wouldn't have mattered much, but the whole thing shoved into her body...

Even with Slayer healing, it would undoubtedly kill her. And that's what freaks me out. 

Everybody's waiting, pacing, crying, whatever. Lorne was really distressed.

"I should've...known...couldn't figure it out..." 

He was referring to her singing. He told me that it was just full of hurt. Guilt. Rage. Pure pain. That he couldn't figure out the real details because the emotions were overwhelming. I told him it wasn't his fault. That he couldn't have done anything. That none of us could. 

And I wish I could believe that.

But I can't. 

I wasn't thinking. I let us all be stripped of our powers. I let us be tricked. I let us suffer. I let one of us die. And I let Faith almost get herself killed. Another one of my stupid, careless mistakes. And what's worse, the one time I know it's my fault, and nobody's blaming me.

"It was all our fault, Buffy. We should have been more cautious...Damnit!" I was still in too much of a daze to be shocked at Giles' swearing.

"When she said it was never gonna happen, I didn't figure she was gonna sacrifice her torso for my eye. If I knew, I would've given this baby up easy." Xander said softly, stroking Dawn's hair, who happens to be very worried. 

She'd asked me when we got Faith into the room.

"Is she going to be okay?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"It was bad, Dawn. I just don't...know."

"But...Slayer healing...her face looked fine...it wasn't all that bad...she'll be fine..." She'd walked off mumbling to herself, assuring herself.

Of course, while everybody blamed themselves, Kennedy and Angel blamed themselves the most. They were both in there, sitting on either side of her I'm sure, eyes glued to her face. I don't recall seeing Angel that worried in his life about someone else. Not even me. And Kennedy. Well. She hasn't said a word. No tears, nothing. She won't even talk to Willow. 

When the doctor (not Jane, but some other doctor) makes them leave the room, they do so silently. With a silent defeat etched on their faces. Everyone decides it's a good time to go to sleep. More time to worry and research tomorrow.

I listen to the whole house drop off, but I can't sleep myself. The guilt is hitting me in waves. After a while, I get up, stepping quietly and walk in. She's sleeping, no coma. There were no head injuries, surprisingly, so they'd said a coma was the least to be worried about. I'm fidgeting and sighing. I don't even realize when I start to cry.

First tears, then body shaking, then uncontrollable sobbing. I reach for the blanket and sob into it, and it isn't a few minutes when I hear it.

"You know, B. I think I've seen too many people cry in the past month. Kinda flattered to think that I'm the reason for it." I think I dislocate my jaw, it's open so wide. 

She's awake. Her voice is weak but she manages a smile.

"Faith, I..." She shushes me.

"It's alright, B. Cry away." So I do. 

She's still alive. 

I have never been so relieved in my life. 

* * *

Kennedy's POV

She's been paralyzed for a week straight, and just yesterday she got up and took a step before she fell. And she does it again today, after three more steps.

"Well, hell." She mutters angrily, leaning against me for support.

"Hell nothing. Maybe if you didn't have yourself a fucking death wish, you wouldn't be here." I clasp onto her tightly, so she won't hit the floor. Willow's helping, too. We get her onto the bed again.

"If I didn't have a death wish, Ken, neither would you." She winks but I know she's telling the truth. 

She saved us all. She risked everything, just like a good leader should, to protect us. To save us. And she succeeded. The only close call was her own self. Not that she cared. Jesus. The girl doesn't give a shit about herself, and she knows it drives me crazy. And Angel. 

"You're still an idiot. Almost get yourself killed and scare us with your goddamn paralyzation. Even with normal Slayer powers, you could've died." I'm scolding her like a ten year old as she lies down and sighs. 

"Thank god for extra strength Slayer powers, then. And Tylenol." Willow and I try not to, but we end up laughing anyways. 

It's been a week. No word from the tall creepy man, and not much movement amongst vampires. It's been research, research, research. All week. No need for training much. It's not like we've got the power to, anyways. It's weird. It feels weird, not being able to sense any of the others anymore. But it's not all that different. I mean, we've only had the powers for a month or so. I think the worst of the shock went to Buffy. I almost felt sorry for her. Still kind of do. She walks around with this defeated look on her face, and the only thing that seems to have been helping her is talking to Faith. 

Which is another thing that's been freak-out worthy. The day after the "Power Loss" (as we call it), we were all visiting and talking to Faith. Thanking her, wishing her well, etc. I was the last one and when I said good night I almost ran into Buffy. She looked like she'd been crying, but that doesn't make a difference to me. She also looked like she wanted in, but that wasn't gonna happen. I wasn't going to make Faith have to deal with this. Not after everything she'd done.

"Please. I need to speak with her." Her voice was so soft I could hardly hear it. I didn't budge.

"Share your baby problems with someone you haven't tried to murder." I said bitingly.

"Ken. Let her in." 

"No." I didn't bother looking back at her. I just glared at Buffy, who was in a place between uncomfortable and punching my face in. I didn't care. We were both human with no powers.

"Kennedy. Just let her in." Then I turned.

"Why are you always so good to her? It's not like she deserves it." Faith smiled at me with a look on her face that said 'I-don't-deserve-it-either', which rightfully pissed me off, but I stepped aside anyways. Before she fully walked in, I grabbed her arm and growled in her ear.

"Hurt her again, and Slayer powers or not, I swear I'll fucking kill you." I shut the door behind her loudly and sulked off angrily.

No, I don't care that I was being unreasonable. Because I honestly don't think I was. She's got it in for me, always making things rockier than need be between me and Willow. Plus the fact that she's the main cause for a lot of Faith's problems, and you know a good friend isn't gonna let the bitch go easy.

But it seems to help Faith, too, so I let it be. I get this feeling that it's more than just being friends. I've come to learn some of the subtle changes in her facial expressions. Her eyes seem to light up more when Buffy's in the room. The smile's more genuine, her voice softer, the tension in the muscles relaxed. It's definitely noticeable. Willow even mentioned Buffy's changes. Not that I take much a look at her, but Willow says the same thing. I think it's safe to say they've developed a crush.

It'd be cute if wasn't Buffy.

"She's not good enough for her." I griped to Willow one night.

"I think Faith's fine! I can't believe you're saying that-"

"I know she's fine, Willow. I meant Buffy's not good enough for Faith."

"What? But she...but she's obviously a much better...um...not better, but more...stable of a person than Faith is, not that she isn't a wonderful girl...it's just..." I placed a finger to her lips.

"That's what you think. But you know I hate her guts." I know she knows. And I know she hates it.

"You need to give her a chance, you two are always at each other's throat like she was with Faith. Except without the violence."

"Oh, you mean like all the chances that were given to Faith?" Willow knows that I'm not so big on the Scooby Gang in general. Especially all the things they'd done to Faith.

"That...that's changed. It's different now and you're not being fair to us."

"Because you were all about fair?" I kissed her on the nose.

"But-"

"I think it's a case of justice, and with justice, comes punishment. And the jury says you're to be punished first." Her breathing hitched when I ran my hand down her side slowly. 

Tentatively.

Basically, the night ended with passionate sex, but that's the really not the point. Though I'm sure many of you pervs would die for the details.

Chill. I'm joking. 

* * *

Narrative

"Did everything go as planned?" A deep, booming voice resonated in the emptiness of the room. A particular tall man, thin, with black beady eyes dropped to one knee at the sound.

"Everything, Master."

"Then the girl will soon be ours." There was a noise that may have resembled a laugh, grating with a source of devilish evil.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thanks to those who reviewed. More please, just to keep me happy. And to keep the story going.**

Faith's POV

I don't think anybody will understand how much I hate to say it.

No, really. I can't believe I'm this stupid. And the worst part is, I always fucking knew. Stupid stupid stupid. Plain fucking stupid.

"How are you doing?" I hear her voice, and my answer is automatic.

"Five by five." She kind of hesitates before sitting down next to me. It's her third visit in the last two days. I hope I don't look annoyed, because I'm not. I'm just slightly nervous. But I try to relax myself, cause I know what's coming is just her talking about everything for the next hour or so. I nod, I laugh, I frown...I react appropriately at the right times. Cause that's what I do best. I observe and react. While that's going on, I'm thinking about what Kennedy had said earlier...

* * *

"So. You and Buffy, huh?" She smirked at me.

"What are you talking about?"

Play innocent, Faith. Maybe it'll work.

"Oh come on. As if nobody's noticed? She's always in here, and all your 'subtle' facial expressions aren't so subtle."

Oh. Well. Fine. So what? We're just indiscreet people. Geez, give us a break.

"Doesn't mean shit. We're good friends now."

"Are you kidding me? You **like** her, don't you?"

"Fuck no!" She gave me a look.

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not."

"Come on. Nobody's gonna bug you about it."

"Except Buffy, who's about as gay as a ruler. Oh wait. That means she's **straight**." She sighed at me, while shaking her head. Sitting down at the edge of my bed, she tilted her head thoughtfully.

"So that means you're not, right?"

Shit. I guess I never really told that to anybody.

"Ah...well..." She laughed so hard I thought she'd choke on her spit.

"Oh my god, I knew it! I **knew** you were a closet dyke!" I couldn't help but throw a pillow at her.

"Fuck you, Ken!"

"Aw. So you **do** like her." I shrugged and leaned back.

"So what if I do? Doesn't mean shit. I'll get over it." Shaking her head again, she hands me back my pillow.

"It's been there for a long time, hasn't it? Even before I knew you."

Well aren't you the perceptive one. But I digested what she said. I can't deny it, as much as I'd like to. I'd been a loner all my life until I got to Sunnydale. I knew who she was at first glance. I could feel her. It was shocking, and rather disturbing.

I'd had my share of girls, before and after meeting Buffy, but I'm embarrassed to say that she was the one girl I thought about all the time. Whether in lust, or anger, or happiness, or betrayal...It was always her.

I always worried for her, about her. Even when I was in the big house, I wondered about her, how she was doing, if she still hated me as much as I pretended to hate her...

I never hated her. I envied her, sure, but never hated. I loved her too much to have hated. I still do.

I fell in love with her slowly but surely, and believe me when I say it scared me shitless. I didn't want it. Love is for wussies. It's for people who can afford to "settle down" and "be happy". And that's something I definitely couldn't afford and can't afford now. I'm a runner; I can't last with someone for more than one night. And above being a runner, I'm a failure. A grade-A fuck up. I know I'm not good enough for anybody other than easy pick-ups. I tell myself I'm not good enough, because I don't think I deserve it.

"You're an idiot, Faith. You deserve happiness more than anyone I know." Kennedy kept talking. She knew me too well. And I guess I wasn't doing much to hide the emotion on my face, because she could see it all.

"Even if I did, how could I ask that of anybody here? Nobody here would want to offer me happiness. Not like that, Ken. Not after all the shit I've pulled." She scowled at me.

"Listen to yourself. You're in love with a girl who tried to kill you, and you're worried that you don't deserve her?"

"I don't. And I don't want to talk about it." My tough girl, stubborn thing doesn't work on her anymore. She's got her arms crossed.

"Well I do. Even Willow agrees with me. You two really have something going on, cause Willow says whenever Buffy talks about you, she's got that look on her face." My heart almost skipped a beat. But I tried not to look hopeful.

Because I'm not, right? Right. No hope at all. Nope. Nada. Zip.

...what look?

"What look? A look of disgust?" I disguised my hope with a joke.

"Oh you know, that kind of dazed look that means your mind's somewhere else? Like in the gutter, for instance?" I glared at her as she snickered.

"Fuck you." I repeated.

"That's Willow's job, thank you very much."

Very funny.

"You're a good actor, Faith. I never really noticed until now. And you don't even talk about it." She went on slowly.

Well, I don't like to talk about it.

"I don't like to talk about it." She gave me a funny look.

"Because you think it won't happen? Or you're just too scared to try?"

Oh fuck off, Ken.

"Because I **know** it'll never happen."

"Well think about it."

"I did. Years ago."

"You never got over it."

With that, she left, knowing that the look on my face meant danger, and even friends can get into a lot of trouble when I get into that mood. But mostly I made the face so she'll leave. So I'd be able to tell the empty room what I didn't get to tell her before she left.

"I never will."

* * *

Buffy's POV

She's thinking about something else. I can see it in her eyes. She's definitely off in space somewhere that's not here.

That's alright. I'm going on about nothing, but my mind's racing with thoughts of earlier today.

Willow and I had a best friend conversation...

* * *

"Popcorn?"

"No thanks."

"Soda?"

"No thanks."

"Candy?"

"Willow, what's wrong?" I could almost hear the wheels in her head squealing.

"No-nothing!" I gave her a look.

"You said you wanted to talk to me, and now you're saying it's nothing?"

Come on, Will. Spit it out.

"Well I do have something to talk about, but that doesn't mean there's something wrong, I just responded to your question about the wrongness of my what and so I thought I'd be honest and tell you that there's nothing wrong, I just wanted to talk to you about something else that's completely opposite of wrong, so-"

"Willow."

"Sorry. I just...I...sorry." I smiled at her gently. She looked so flustered. It was cute, as always. I always enjoyed her company. Comes with being a best friend, I guess.

"So...what's the what?" She was a bit hesitant, but eventually she got around to it.

"Well, Buffy, as your honorary best friend, I wanted to have, you know, an update on your life and if there are any new love interests?" Almost laughable of a question. And it honestly would have been.

**If** there wasn't someone.

And there was. There is. I guess I just never really wanted to think so, but I knew it, in the back of my mind, that it was always there. But I have to pretend. Because it's wrong. It really is.

"So there is?" She looked at me hopefully.

"I didn't say anything."

"Yea, but your face had that 'oh-no-Willow-found-me-out' expression!"

I have one of those?

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"How would you know? You've never seen it!"

True.

"Even if I did have an expression like that, I'm sure it wasn't on my face when you asked." She crossed her arms and the resolve face was on.

"So there's no one?"

That's what I'm saying. Not what I believe.

"Exactly."

She stared at me for a moment, bit her lip in deep thought, then tilted her head.

"I don't believe you."

Sigh. I didn't think you would.

"Oh really?"

"Really really."

"Come on. Who would I even fall for? Angel? Been there, done that. Wesley? Ew. Connor? Even more ew. Lorne's not my type, Gunn and I don't like each other, and Andrew's a pest. And Xander doesn't even count as a male. The only one left is Giles, and you and I both know that **that** would be more than disturbing."

I'm pretty sure I've listed everyone.

"Who says it has to be a male?" I almost choked on my spit.

Oh god. Don't let this be happening.

"Wh-what?!"

"You heard me."

"You're crazy."

"I never pegged you for a conservative, Buffy."

"I'm not."

"Then stop acting like a closet case."

"I'm not!" She paused before switching tactics.

"Who is it?"

I said nothing. She continued.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Would you date me?"

"What? No!"

"Would you date Xander?"

"No!"

"Giles?"

"Ew! Willow!"

"What about Angel?"

"Been there."

"Wesley?"

"Willow! No!"

"Is it Faith?"

"Yes!"

My hands flew to my mouth faster than the speed of light and her eyes flashed triumphantly.

"I **knew** it!"

Oh god. I can't talk. I think I'll blow my brains out. I can't believe it. I just...

"Buffy? ...Buuuufffyyy..."

I closed my eyes, hoping that she would just disappear. But of course. Wishes don't come true when you **want** them to.

She poked at me until I peeked one eye open.

"Oh come on, Buffy. It's not like we didn't know!"

We? Who's we?

"We?" My voice came out like a squeak. She giggled and gave me a hug.

"Me and Kennedy, silly! Though she noticed a lot earlier than I did."

Oh that makes me feel loads better. Not.

"I didn't...I didn't mean it like that. Not Faith. Of course not."

"Don't be such a baby. Why are you having such a hard time admitting it?"

Why? Because she's a girl, and so am I, and that's just not how Buffy Summers is!

"B-b-because!"

I'm starting to sound like Willow.

"B-b-because what?" She mocked my stutter.

Bitch. I'll mock **you** next time. You just watch.

"She's...she's a girl." She stared at me, waiting for me to go on. When she realized that was it, she started laughing.

"Oh my god, Buffy. You can't be serious!"

Oh but I am.

"Buffy! You're backing out on somebody you like because you're of the same gender? That's just stupid. I mean, hello? Best friend's all gayed up!"

"I don't like her."

"You're a horrible liar."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am. Not." She paused.

"Okay then. I guess I'll let Kennedy know, and she'll tell that one girl that Faith's free. Or maybe that other guy, from the club? Remember? Or the other one. We'll just let them all know that Faith's completely open, because obviously nobody here likes her at all. Nope. Check on the non-liking of Faith in this vicinity. Except I think Angel's got a crush on her, too. I'll let him know. Oh, or that Connor kid. Maybe even Fred. I mean, geez, Buffy. The girl's got herself a fanclub, I guess we'll just post it up on the bulletin board that she's completely and utterly fre-"

"Willow!" She giggled again at the horrified expression on my face.

"Just kidding! But honestly. I refuse to allow my Slayer of a best friend just let the moment pass. It's obvious that she cares about you, too."

Really? I always kind of put her flirting behind me cause that's just how she is.

"I doubt it."

"She does. I'm sure of it. Even Kennedy's sure of it."

"You guys could be wrong."

"...or we could be absolutely right!"

"I don't know."

"I do."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

I'm almost excited, then I crashed down into another bout of doubt.

"It'll never happen."

"If it doesn't, it's gonna be your fault, not hers."

What? I'm speechless.

"She's never going to say no, Buffy, but she's never going to make the first move. Not with all that guilt on her conscience. She probably still thinks you hate her."

"But I don't!"

"Yea, but she still thinks **I** hate her, and I was nicer to her when she got back than you were."

Touche. Okay, so I was a bitch. But surely she knows I don't hate her? I never did.

Willow convinced me to hold my ground. I promised (after minutes of arguing) to think about telling her. I don't know, though.

We'll see.

* * *

And now, here I am, still talking about nothing, and still watching her face. She's smiling, nodding, making appropriate reactions for all the right times. I finish my story and now it's silent.

"Faith?" I break the silence.

"Yea, B?"

What to say? What to think? What to do?

"Where did you go at night, when everybody else was asleep?" I don't know why I ask. I just do. She looks at me kinda surprised, but answers promptly.

"Just out. You know, if I'm not at a bar, I'm at the docks or something." I nod sagely. As if I know what she's talking about.

"What do you think about?"

"This some kind of therapy you giving me, B?" She's not accusatory. Just amused. I flush.

"Sorry...Just trying to start a conversation, I guess." With a shrug she stops talking for a moment.

"You." I hold my breath.

Me? She thinks about me?

"...and the gang."

Oh. I'm slightly disappointed.

"Good things, I hope." I say politely.

"Always." The conversation ends.

"Well, I guess I should let you sleep now." I feel a bit awkward. She smiles at me and reaches for my hand. I'm stiff as she takes it, entwining our fingers together, and I hold my breath again as she lifts my hand to her lips and gives it a kiss.

"Night, B." Does she know how that makes me feel? In hopes that she doesn't, and in hopes that she does, I jump out of my seat and rush out.

"Night!"

I hope I can fall asleep tonight, but for some reason, I doubt it.


	17. Chapter 17

**This chapter is pretty angsty, but just remember that there's a reason for everything. Angst is always necessary in explaining Faith. Review please.**

Faith's POV

Well damn. This is kind of embarrassing. I'm leaning against the pillows here, and I just saw Buffy dash out of here like her tail was on fire. It's kinda cute.

But I really shouldn't be thinking about it, right? Love is...love shouldn't be on my mind. Not with Buffy, at least.

I mean, it's been on my mind before, but I've never really put much thought into it.

_Newest understatement of the year. _

I remember tossing and turning in my bed at night, back when I was new in Sunnydale, trying to get some sleep. Have you ever felt that? To be so deeply connected to someone who hates you? To be madly in need and in want of your worst enemy?

It fucking sucks. Really, it hurts.

There was a time in my life when I loved her so much I took it and fueled my hatred with my passion. And with that I also threw in my envy, my loneliness, the uselessness, the **rage**...

Emotions can drive you a long way, and mine drove me into a hatred that could've caused earthquakes to rumble, volcanoes to erupt, worlds of dimensions and dimensions of worlds to end. It drove me into a deep hatred for anything related to Buffy. I couldn't bear thinking about her, the way she dressed, the way she walked, talked, acted. I couldn't stand her, but I couldn't get enough.

I wanted her dead, but in all the time working with the Mayor, I dreaded the day that he'd ask me to finish the job.

I couldn't trust them. Any of them. Even when I was good. Because I was disposable, and I knew they'd gladly give up my life for Buffy's. I went on, hoping maybe at least Buffy would notice me. That she'd feel our connection. At the least as friends. I **needed** a friend. God, I needed love and acceptance more than anything in the world but they turned me away. Yet the minute I **was** the danger, I was the first one they tried to befriend. And you wonder why I said no? Why I spat on them? Why I hated them?

**Well wake up, assholes. You hurt me, I hurt you. Remember?**

Anyways, I wanted nothing but acceptance from Buffy. And I had it. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world. To be almost idolized by someone like Buffy. To be treated as an equal. That lasted for about two, three days. Then I had to resume being Little Miss Fuck Up and she had to continue on being Little Miss Perfect. I'd hoped...for something.

_**Anything.**_

I gave up that hope the very second she stabbed me.

Because it didn't matter if I could never kill her. She could kill me, **would** kill me, and for that one moment I thought she really did.

I wanted to tell her.

The pain in my gut was the most real thing I'd felt in a long time.

I needed to tell her, so that maybe I'd have some sort of peace when I was gone.

But I didn't.

Because I didn't want her to have to go on, knowing that I never hated her. Knowing that she never had to kill me for that hatred that was made up of love and envy and anger and pain.

Because I didn't want her to hurt. Or to feel guilty.

Because I didn't want her to know my only weakness.

Because...

Because...

Because...

Because I loved her.

Because I still do.

* * *

Narrative

In her sleep her brows were furrowed and her forehead glistened with sweat. If one had felt her skin, they may have drawn back, for it was as though she was on fire. Then a moment later she felt like a frozen corpse. Hot. Cold. Burning. Freezing.

If someone had peeked in, they would figure she was having some sort of a nightmare. But she was not. She was trapped inside a hell.

* * *

She couldn't tell if her eyes were open or not; it made no difference in the darkness that engulfed her.

Then there were faces. Those faces, those bodies, those people that came out of the darkness to speak to her.

"Where's the money? I know you stole my money...!"

_Mom..._

"Do you know who the Spartans were...?"

_Mrs. Post..._

"I'll always be with you, firecracker. In everything you do..."

_Boss..._

It killed her, slowly, internally, jabbing every single scabbing wound inside of her with a flaming hot iron poker. Her screams were unheard, and time seemed to mean nothing.

_Die, please just let me die..._

Oh but it was so dark, so cold, so hot, so painful and so lonely all at once, and all she wanted was to have it end. But something seemed to tell her that this **was** the end.

**Her** end.

And there was nothing she could do about it. Other than,

"Scream, Faithy. Scream."

* * *

She gasped awake in the middle of the night.

**4:13**

Read the red lights on the bedside stand. She stood up, even though her body ached. She moved herself, despite the fact that her legs weren't moving just hours before. She pushed herself to her limits, and pushed even harder to go beyond them. She pushed and pushed and shoved herself into a place of real, physical pain.

_The gym._

Shuffling along the tile, she continued to force herself on. She focused on the pain. She made it hurt more. She wanted it to hurt more. It was better than what she'd felt in her dreams. It happened every night, since the sword had been jammed through her body. Every night.

Every night she'd feel her insides torn apart, she'd hear her mind shriek at unearthly levels. She'd jar herself awake and force pain upon her body. Anything on the outside to make everything on the inside go away.

* * *

The first night after the nightmare she forced herself to stand. She fell so many times, but that's what she had to do. She had to hurt. She'd made a goal, and that was what she was planning on reaching. Her legs buckled, weak and numb in paralyzation, under her weight, but she pushed.

_Stand. I __**have**__ to stand. _

The second night it was pressure on the wound. With one hand on the bed and the other placed firmly on the healing hole in her abdomen, she pushed. The pain was excruciating, but welcome. She held it, then added more pressure.

Release.

Then again.

Then again.

Then again...

Until she passed out.

The third night it was the flame. She remembered reading about one man in history, who held his hand over a flame every night, to assure himself that he could handle torture. It ended up something like that. Crumpled pieces of paper, shredded paper, cotton balls, and scraps of fabric. A balled up piece of cloth. A match. Alcohol. She stuffed her mouth with the ball of cloth, then poured alcohol over the assorted pieces of false kindle. She held it in one hand and lit it, quickly cupping it with her other hand after dropping the match into the pile. The sounds of her muffled screams and sobs hardly reached the hallway. The fire blazed on and on like the sun in her hands and when it finally died, she dropped her hands onto the bed and closed her eyes. Tears ran down unchecked, and her hands were near numb. She could not bring herself to move until an hour later. She somehow supported her body against the wall with her arms, with her elbows, her wrists, anywhere but her hands. She ran them under cold water, and stared at the blackened flesh, dead and unresponsive. When they were done cleansing, it was raw flesh that broke through. She could see blood. Muscle. A pulse. That was the day she'd slept through without waking up once. They almost panicked, but when they found out she was just sleeping, they let her be. Nobody saw the slow healing that was taking place on her hands. Even through the night, her sleep was...peaceful.

Of course, she had to wake up sooner or later. And she did, on the fifth day.

The fifth night she refused to let her body sleep. She had a taste of freedom, of peace, and did not want to lose it. She kept herself occupied. Watched TV, read books, played solo card games, she found the time and mood to entertain herself while fantasizing of a certain someone.

_Why not? It's my body, I've got privilege to._

She thought, as she ran her hand slowly down her body. She turned off the light; it bothered her when it was on. One might wonder, since when did Faith become a masturbator, when she could have anyone she wanted?

_Become? I was pro at 14 years old, baby._

The answer was simple.

_Buffy..._

She wet her lips tentatively, as her fingers slipped under the cloth of her panties.

With her many partners, she was hard, aggressive, and fast-paced. She preferred it that way. Because it was simply a release. She didn't want to cuddle or talk or make love. She wanted to **fuck**. She wanted to reach the big O and then make'm leave. That was it.

_I __**come**__, you __**go**_

That's how it always was. With strangers, at least.

But with herself it was meant to be slow. To be a build-up. To learn more about what her body wanted, what it needed. It was a process that she made the most of. And undoubtedly she was the best at it.

Slowly. Lightly. She could feel the heat rising, and so she pushed the covers down.

A little faster. A little harder. Biting her lips, she arched her back into her touch.

Faster. Harder. With a sharp intake of breath she let go.

She lay there, her hand still in the spot between her skin and her clothes.

_Well. That was fun._

Then she raised herself off the bed, to take a shower. For some reason, sex and masturbation always made her feel strangely dirty.

Groaning at the pain and making a face at the wound, she stepped into the water cascading down her lovely skin. It felt so good. But good, for our darling Faith, never lasts.

The sixth night, she couldn't stay up. She fell fast into a deep slumber, and again it happened. The hell, the world of fire and ice, where the darkness was the light and light was darkness. She was frozen in that state of mind and didn't wake up until the morning sun kissed her skin. It jarred her awake and she almost cried of happiness.

_The light...the light..._

It was undoubtedly the most beautiful thing she had witnessed in her life, so often shrouded in darkness.

* * *

It hung from the ceiling by steel chain links and it clanked irritably at her repetitive attacks upon it's weight.

_Right cross, left jab, right hook, right knee._

Switch.

_Side kick, left cross, left elbow, palm strike._

Switch.

_Forward stomp kick, axe kick, spin back hand, jab._

Switch.

It continued onwards, frighteningly so, as her hands soon bled under pressure, and her breathing succumbed to heavy panting. Clean, crisp hits fell apart into sloppy, rageful attacks, and slight grunts forced their way into frustrated shouts.

_Focus on the pain._

She forced her legs to stay alive, not to buckle under the pressure. She pushed harder, stretching herself out of the boundaries of human flesh.

She imagined her body, constrained with plastic wrap, no air to breathe and her lungs burning to swallow oxygen. Trying to tear a hole in the impermeable second skin; this slippery, durable, air-sealing part of her that she needed to destroy. It became a battle between her and the skin. And she began to wonder if it was hers in the first place.

_Is this mine? Is this me?_

It was there to protect her, to keep her from harm, but it suffocated her with an efficiency known only to inhuman things. She couldn't stay in, but she was, **is**, afraid to go out. And only until it was too late did she realize the monster she became; the lack of oxygen and excess of carbon dioxide. It protected her and killed her. What more could she expect from life?

Harder. She pushed herself further into the rage she'd known all her life. She let it crash into her over and over again, reveling in the feeling. This was all she ever knew. All she'd ever had to keep her going. To keep her from hurting. It shielded her from pain. It made nothing else matter but the hot, searing anger. Everything in her vision flashed red. Her mind screamed "No" but her heart pumped only for that moment. Only for the rage.

She let out a fierce cry as she dug her bare knuckles deeper into the bag. It wasn't just a bag. No. Not if she pretended it was someone she hated. Someone she couldn't stand. And in the dark, who was to say it really wasn't who she thought it was?

Well, for one:

The only person she could see in front of her was herself.

Mocking her, leering at her, smirking the trademark look towards her. Her image waved at her, motioned at her to 'come on', and laughed at her.

But it spoke, too. **She** spoke.

"Is that the best you can do?" It easily blocked her. Easily seemed to dodge her attacks.

"Come on, Faith. Working for the good can't be that devastating on your skills."

_You bet your ass it isn't. I've been...ungh...working...hard...ungh..._

"None of your hits have the same **umph**, Faithy. Not gonna wait forever." It..._**she**_ smirked.

_Snarky bitch._

"Watch the language. You know what the Boss said."

_I don't __**care**__ what the Boss fucking said. _

"Sure you do. It's why you still dream about him."

_Bullshit._

"I don't think so. But keep the facade up anyway. Always gonna need it."

It leaned closer, and the sound of her voice crawled into her ears like an infection she couldn't heal.

"Cause you're still evil."

_No. I'm not._

"No. I'm not."

"Yes you are, and you know it. You can still feel it, can't you? Pulsing through your veins. It's who you are, Faith. Why deny the power inside that's meant for doing whatever the hell you want?"

"Because that's not what it's for."

"God, you're starting to sound like B."

"Buffy's been doing this longer. She knows."

"Sure she does. That's why she needed your help, right?"

"They needed someone with my experience."

"No, they needed their very last resort. And that was you."

Silence.

"What, you thought they **wanted **you back? Of course they didn't. Who the fuck wants you? A failure, a fuck-up, a useless piece of shit-"

"Shut up."

"...with a track record a mile long with the cops, and a history of no good with the Council. Honestly? I'd say they just really needed someone evil enough to help destroy some more fucking evil."

"Fuck you."

"That we can take care of easy."

Silence.

"Oh come on. Smile. Be cheerful. Have some fucking faith, why don't you?"

"I've had my fill."

"Too bad, cause you're never gonna get away from it. From me. From yourself. Shit, you're stuck with me forever."

_Not for long._

"Don't talk to me through your mind, F. It's fucking rude, I thought the Boss taught us something about that."

"I **told** you, I don't care what the Boss said!"

"Then why are you talking again?"

Silence.

"Ah pecker up, babe. I'm just fucking around."

"So stop fucking around and go away."

"Oh you know that's not gonna happen."

"No, I don't know."

"Of course not, nobody ever bothers to fill you in on much, do they?"

Silence.

"Poor little Faithy, nobody to care and nobody to love. Pretty fucking sad, isn't it?"

She could feel the tears of frustration prickling at the back of her eyes.

"Tears? And I thought you were tough."

_Tougher than you._

"No, I don't think so. Cause, like I said, we're one and the same."

"How fucking unfortunate."

"Mm. Well, it's like this. I'm the Angelus to your Angel."

"Glad you took the time to find a metaphor."

"Well you shoved me into that little cell in the back of your head the second you asked Angel to kill you, I had nothing **but** time."

"So go back."

"I enjoy my freedom, thanks."

"You'll never be free."

"If I'm not free, than you'll never be."

"I don't care."

"Sure you do, otherwise you'd be happy and...have I already mentioned the free part?"

"I'd rather be stuck like this than free you."

"I always thought you liked being me."

"Killing isn't my idea of fun."

"You seemed to enjoy it."

"**You **enjoyed it. Not me."

"Got a point there. I loved it. But since I'm you, you must've loved it, too."

Silence.

"All that fucking power. I know it felt good. No matter how much you deny it."

She stood still, and she watched as her mirror image came closer.

"Boss said everyone is **always** going to see you as a killer. I sure do. Don't you?"

With a cry she let loose a punch towards the other, but the mirage disappeared and the punching bag flew across the room, breaking the mirrored walls in the gym.

She stood, staring at the reflection of herself standing with heaving breaths, sweat mingling with the blood on her hands. With closed eyes and a sigh of defeat she fell onto her knees, fists clenched.

_I'm a killer. _

Her mind flooded with images of her past: Finch, the blood, the stake, the professor, the research, the arrow, the poison, Angel, the knife, Buffy, the fall, the relief.

_I should've died._

"I should've died."

Her voice sounded alien in the silence, but the confession to the darkness felt good. Felt...relieving.

"I should've died. I should be dead. Why aren't I dead?" She repeated to herself. A feeling of self-loathe washed over her again and again.

"Why? Why the **fuck** aren't I dead yet? **What's** the fucking point in keeping me here?!" She screamed towards the ceiling, past the roof, past everything to the stars, screaming at the powers that had allowed all this to happen to her.

Then she felt it.

_No..._

It had been there, she only just realized it.

_Fuck no. No._

Someone else was there, standing in the darkness, watching her while she had a conversation within her insanity. Humiliation? Not quite. More like that feeling you get when every single wall you had up came crashing down in front of the mirror but then you realize somebody else was there at the same time.

Oh wait. That's exactly what happened. And that's exactly how she felt.

**Vulnerable.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Kinda short, but oh well. Thanks for the reviews. If you're gonna flame, at least give constructive criticism. I can't get much out of "that chapter sucked". **

**Anyways, review away. Constructively, constructively.**

Faith's POV

"Whoever the fuck you are. Get out." I'm trying to make my voice as unapproachable as possible. Cause this is just fucking...shit.

I hear their breathing stop in a slight gasp. But they don't leave. I try again.

"Please...just. Leave."

Don't crack, Faith. Don't break now.

Soft footsteps. Towards me. Not towards the door like they should be.

_**That's it.**_

I jump up and turn. This motherfucker's gonna get it.

"I **told** you to **leave!**"

...what the?

"B?"

And there she is, standing half in and half out of the moonlight coming through the skylights. And here I am, ready to vomit all over her.

"Faith." Her hand reaches up to touch my face. I flinch. She drops her hand.

I can't believe I flinched.

"B, what are you...why aren't you sleeping?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Couldn't sleep."

"Bad dream?"

"Nightmare."

We stop talking for a little bit. She keeps looking at me, but I'm looking at my toes. See how they wiggle? Wee. This little piggy went to the market, this little piggy went...to school? Oh I don't know. Nobody's ever done that shit with my toes. But I guess it's better than facing-

"Faith, look at me." She sounds so sad.

Good fucking observation, Faith. Who cares?

Oh yea. I do.

I slowly lift my chin to meet her gaze. She's crying. And I can't help but wonder at how pretty her eyes are. Hazel and shining and...and...

_Oomph._

Did she just hit me?

_Oomph._

Ow! What the-

**_UNGH!_**

"B, what the fuck?!" I'm trying to hold her fists, but she's just thrashing about, pounding at my shoulders, my arms, my whole fucking body.

Thank god her powers are MIA.

"You're such an idiot! You're such a fucking idiot!" She's sobbing and irrationally attacking me but isn't really trying to hurt me...

Why does this scene look so familiar?

"What are you talking about? What's wrong?"

"You idiot...you idiot..."

Ow. Ow. OW!

I feel a strange urge to pull her in. And I do. I forcefully bring her body into my arms, and I hold her, shushing her. We're back on the floor, on our knees.

"You shouldn't be dead, you shouldn't be dead..." She's cries into my shoulder.

I'm stroking her hair and blinking away the tears that are threatening to come.

"It's okay, B...it's okay..."

I rock her until she stops crying. She looks up at me and we do that weird awkward laughing people do after an intimate situation. She sits up and we're just facing each other on our knees.

Well. I guess I should say something to lighten the mood.

"I should call the cops on you. Abusing a poor defenseless Slayer like me."

It works. She's holding back that cute little grin.

"Poor and defenseless hardly describes you, Faith."

"More like hot and sexy, right?"

Did she blush? I can't really tell.

"Whatever makes you feel better." Deadpan.

Fine. I'll push it.

"It keeps a lot of people feeling better, B." I wink at her.

"I wouldn't know."

"Bet you wanna know."

That's **definitely** a blush.

"You wish."

"Wishing is for losers. I do or I don't."

"I see that's worked out for you."

"Hey, I get off, right? That's all that counts."

"You're so vulgar."

"Well you're a fucking prude."

"What? Am not!"

"Cause pastels scream 'Fuck Me'? You've got to be joking."

"I've had my share of men, thank you."

"Three men, two of which are dead, and one of which is really fucking dead."

"Yes, well they were wonderful men."

"We're talking sex, not romance."

"Sex **is** romance."

"You don't seriously believe that, do you, B?"

"Why, don't you?"

"Romance...doesn't work for me. **Love** doesn't work for me."

"What? Why not?"

"Bad experiences." I probably shouldn't have said that. She sits up straighter, kind of excitedly and grabs my hands, despite the dried blood.

"You've been in love?"

"I know, it's pretty hard to believe, huh?"

"Who?"

"Someone who didn't love me." The look on her face falters a bit. She knows.

It's true, isn't it? I loved you, and you hated me. And you knew it, and I know you knew it. That's how it worked, right, B?

"Oh."

"It's cool. I survived."

Barely.

"Well. That's good, I guess." I quirk an eyebrow at her.

You guess?

"You guess, B? What's that supposed to mean?" She realizes what she said and tries to correct herself. To my amusement, of course.

"No I mean...I meant..."

"It's cool. Just messing around."

And here comes the awkward silence again. My body's aching. My mind's still feeling fucked from what happened no more than an hour ago. My emotions are on tight strings.

I'm ready to sleep. I'm willing to risk the dreams.

"Well I guess we should um...sleep?"

"Yea, I suppose so."

We stand and shuffle a little nervously. At least, I'm nervous. I don't know if she is. She looks nervous.

Break the silence, Faith.

"Night then, B."

I turn to walk out when I feel her hand grasp my arm. She pulls me around and we're inches away from each other. I want to ask what she's doing, but I think my heart stopped. She tilts her head and gives me a little smile.

Then she kisses me.


	19. Chapter 19

**I'm liking the reviews. Most of them, at least. I appreciate the "positive" ones (eg. JekyllnHyde). Anyways, back to our (or my) favorite Slayers...**

Buffy's POV

I don't know what made me do it.

But I kiss her, and I feel like it's one of the best ideas I've had in a long time. I had to tiptoe to reach her lips, but in less than three seconds my feet were touching the ground again and she was leaning in to me. There's a moan as I wrap my arms around her neck.

Was that me? Or was that her?

I feel her hands pulling me closer as she rests them possessively on the small of my back. The moan is definitely mine this time. Our tongues battle, they caress, and I don't want to stop. Her lips are full against mine and we fit.

We fit so perfectly.

I want to cry when she breaks away.

"What the...hell was that, B?" She looks like she's about to freak out. Oh wait. No. She's definitely already freaking.

And what a good question. What **was** that?

"I...I don't...know..."

"Don't tell me that was...that you were..." My eyes widen. I rush to hold her to me.

"No! No, Faith...I swear I wasn't trying to..." I wasn't. I wasn't trying to hurt her, or to fuck with her. Because she knew I knew. I knew it was me she was in love with the first time.

"God...god..." She's trying hard not to break down. I feel guilty.

"I'm so sorry, maybe I shouldn't have-"

"No. God...it was...nice..." Really? Was it?

"...It just took me by surprise." She finishes.

"Me too, actually." I say honestly.

Wow, this silence thing needs to stop. It's really nerve-wrecking.

"So. Horny much, B?" I stiffen.

Oh no. Please don't go back into your walls. Not now. Don't hide behind that beautifully sad smile and pretend everything's alright.

"That's not what it was."

"Sorry. I just...you know."

Yes, I know. Your need to pretend everything's about sex, and your need to make everything happy and light and humorous so that you don't feel vulnerable to the people around you.

"Is it so hard to believe that I'd do that of my own accord?"

Is it?

"Yea, it is."

Oh. I guess that answers my question.

"Why?" She hesitates before answering.

**Fine**. Give my hands a little more time to sweat and feel clammy.

"Because of all the unattainable people in the world, B, you're the most unattainable."

That's a compliment, right? Or is that just another way of telling me I'm uptight?

Wait a minute. Of all the unattainable? There's more?

I feel a rush of jealousy.

"Oh, you keep a list of people, is that it?" She gives me a funny look.

"Calm down, B. I was just saying."

"Who else? Who else is it?" I'm not seeing red. I'm seeing lots and lots of green.

"Buffy, I was just stating the fact that you're a typically unattainable person. It's not that you're on some list of people that I want."

Does that mean she **doesn't** want me? Oh my god. I just made a fool of myself. This is so embarrassing.

"Cause you're the only one I want."

I feel a pang in my heart and it's not a bad one. I start crying again. I'm so stupid.

"Come on, B. Don't cry." Her arms wrap around me again.

"I'm not crying." Okay, so I'm a really bad liar, I'm sorry.

We stand in half dark, half light, and I can't help but think how well it fits our relationship. Yin and yang, right? We're about as compatible as black and white, but here we are. I want to tell her how much I care about her, to the extent of using the L word but I'm afraid. I've been afraid. And all I can remember is that I've just never given her the time of the day to be real. But it's time.

I'm twenty fucking five years old. I know what I want. Who I want. And this is what I want. I can't believe it's taken me all this time to figure it out.

"Faith?"

"Yea, B?"

"I lo-" Her hand closes over my mouth.

* * *

Faith's POV

"Don't say it."

Please, don't say it. Please.

She pushes my hand off angrily. Hurt.

"Why not?"

"Just because."

She looks into my eyes and I wonder. I wonder if she can see past the walls, the protection that I've built for myself all these years and I wonder if she can see the desire, the need, the passion that I've had for her all these years. I wonder if she can see the guilt, the regret, the broken hope that maybe she could feel for me. Fuck, I'm still trying to keep my head on straight at the fact that she's here. That she kissed me and that she really wants me. Is this real? Can this be real? I don't know if I can believe it. It's just too much to take in all at once. Does that make sense to you? Cause it makes a hell of a lot of sense to me.

Look real close, B. I'm letting all these walls down for you. Just for you...can you see?

You can't love me, Buffy. You can't. I don't think you understand just how much I don't deserve this. Your love, your forgiveness...no matter how much I bitched about how none of you ever forgave me, I still can't help but wonder if I deserve it. And it hurts. I want it all so badly but there's the guilt. The fucking pain that won't let me be happy. That tells me I don't deserve to be happy. Is it fair? Not at all. But that's life, right? It's life and I have to deal, cause let's face it, Buffy. I never deserved someone as good as you and I never will.

_Smack!_

Well. That hurt.

I'm rubbing my cheek with a look of shock. She might not have powers but she sure knows how to pack a...slap.

"God. You're just such an idiot!"

Way to repeat yourself. Sound like a fucking broken record.

"You know, I seem to be hearing that a lot tonight."

And damn if it isn't the truth. I'm an idiot. But haven't I told you already, Buffy? Love and romance? That shit just don't fly well with me. Not at all. Remember what happened? How it all ended? I don't, I can't, and I will not go spiraling down that vortex again. Not again. I like this friendship we've got going, and how could you ask me to risk that? How? I can't do it. I just fucking can't.

"You're not risking anything."

"I'm risking everything, B."

My sanity, and your social status of "perfect". By everything, though, I really just mean you. I can't risk people talking about you, I couldn't do that to you. You're perfect, you're beautiful, you're just plain fucking amazing. I just couldn't stand the thought of people talking. Of people whispering and spreading rumors and hurting you. I can't be the cause of that, not for you. And Jesus, B, commitment? I could be with the nicest people in the world and I would throw them out of my room without a word. Then treat them like it was a mistake or like a joke for the rest of their miserable lives. And my miserable life. Didn't you see? You were there. First hand. You knew about Xander, you knew about Robin... And my heart would break the second I'd do it to you. Because it's me, and I know that I'd shove you out, fucking scared that I even let you in, and I can't do it. Please don't make me do it. Not to you. **Anyone** but you.

"I don't want you with anyone **but **me, Faith."

"Then fuck, B, I guess I'll be a bachelorette forever."

And I can do that. If it's what you want, B, I can do it. I can hold back everything for you. Isn't that crazy? Isn't it stupid as hell? Yes, it fucking is. But then again, isn't it the fucking truth? I wanted to hate you so much for being the cause of my pain but I could never hate you. I wanted to, but more than that I wanted to be the only one in your life that mattered. But all those years, and I was vamp dust in the wind to you. Now here we are, you telling me that you want me, and all I can think of is the fact that I'd do anything in the world for you. I should hate you. But I don't. I love you. But I can't. And even more so than all of that? You love me, but you can't. I won't let you. I can't let you.

_Smack!_

"You."

_Smack!_

"Are."

_Smack!_

"Not!"

_Smack!_

"The."

_Smack!_

"Boss!"

_Smack!_

"Of."

_Smack!_

"Me!"

_Smack!_

I didn't stop her. I just stood there like a frozen statue. Letting her slap me around like I'm her bitch. And hell, I guess I am.

She stands in front of me, panting all over again, shaking cause she's angry as hell at me. You know, I'm thinking this whole read-me-through-my-eyes idea was a bad idea. It's getting me in more trouble. But I think it's about time I gave her the clue, right? I can pull up my walls anytime I want, but not now. Now is just the wrong fucking time to do it.

Because here's the part where I fall apart and cry in her arms.


	20. Chapter 20

**This is very long, very angsty, very Faith biased, and I want all of you to think of the end of this chapter as a cliffhanger. Because it is, and it'll be hard to tell. Muahahaha.**

**Otherwise, review. I love your feedback. Really, I do. Else I wouldn't ask for it. The positive/constructive feedback, that is.**

**I also want to mention that I have a oneshot up, "Running Free". Please check it out, it's a little different than most oneshots that deal with Buffy/Faith, but I did enjoy writing it. **

**So...check it out, avid fans of mine, and review that one, too.**

Narrative

"Buffy...buffy please..." She stumbled forward on her knees and clutched at Buffy's clothes. Her eyes were shut closed but that didn't stop the tears.

"Buffy...buffy..." She was crying her name over and over again, and Buffy couldn't think. She couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't do anything but let her own tears fall down her face.

"I love you...I love you..." Faith sobbed into the clothes, not wanting to be heard, but wanting Buffy to know. It's all she wanted the girl to know. That she'd give up the world for her. That she'd do anything, **anything**, for her. Hoping to God that those three words would tell her that she was **everything** to her.

"I love you, too..." Buffy's voice was no more than a whisper. She was scared. Afraid of what it meant to her.

And Faith? Well. She just poured her soul out into the open to the Chosen. Above all things, love was the most frightening thing to her. In her life she could handle rejection, betrayal, guilt, murder, suicide, anything. But love? It was so new, and it was so raw.

What does it mean? What **is** love?

They sat in the darkness, against the wall, Buffy's head against her shoulder, and her voice echoing in the room.

She'd seen what people had done for love, and she'd experienced what love had done to her, but the love she'd seen and the love she'd experienced was nothing more than obsession.

* * *

Faith's POV

Mom loved to live at the bottom of the bottle.

Scratch that.

She loved living at the bottom of the whole fucking barrel. It's all she craved, every second, using the unemployment welfare checks to buy more JD. She loved it so much she used it against me. I tried some once, just for the hell of it. I guess she found out somehow. That's what the scar on the back of my neck is from. That's when I realized how much I loved pain. But I'll get back to that later.

Mom loved the bottle, and I guess the bottle loved her. They died hand in hand. At least I think that's how it went. I don't know, because I don't know where she went. She just up and left. Like Dad did. But it didn't matter. Just like Dad didn't matter. Because we weren't really family. I realized that the minute Dad was gone forever. It took me a couple years. But I got it. We'd go weeks without food in the pantry, but that was okay, right? Because Mom didn't need anything but good old Jack. If she got food, it wasn't from the house. That's when I learned to shoplift. They don't keep food under lock and key in supermarkets, and I wore guy pants anyway. I gambled at school to get the money for my clothes, but after a couple years I wasn't allowed back in. I guess I'd been alone so long, any attention I got was like heaven, good or bad. But expulsion put me back in the streets.

Dad loved to cheat. At least, that's what I heard.

That's all he did, right? Cheat on mom. He must've loved it. He must've. Because that's what he did all the time. Doesn't it mean you love it, if you do it because you want to? Isn't that love? And then he left. I don't know where to. He was just gone. It didn't matter much, cause I was only four. I don't even remember what he looked like. He wasn't home much. So Mom always brought her boyfriends home. I hated them, but I guess Mom liked them okay, cause they loved the alcohol just as much as she did. Or maybe not. Cause there was me. They always waited until Mom passed the fuck out, then I'd find them in my bedroom, holding me down. I can still smell the liquor like it was yesterday. I don't remember who was who, and I don't remember how many of them there were. I just remember the same thing over and over again. Hold me down, rip my clothes off, fuck me til I bled. That's when I started sleeping naked. I didn't have a lot of clothes anyway, so might as well save the ones I got, right? I used to try and fight them, but what's a nine year old against a forty year old docker, right? Right? I couldn't do shit. That just meant they'd hurt me more, so I stayed quiet. But sometimes they'd make me scream. They liked it better that way. The older I got, the faster I learned about what they wanted.

Men love to fuck.

So I learned to fuck. I learned to fuck real good, and most times I could get what I wanted that way. Coke, speed, weed, liquor, smokes, money, anything. Anything to get myself away. I guess that's why I get horny so fast after I slay. I'm used to fucking and being fucked all the time. I'm used to being forced to do it. It's like I need to do it, just out of habit. Makes sense, right? Maybe not. It does to me. Suck a cock, finger a clit, it's all in the job. At least, it **was**.

After Mom left everything changed. I suddenly had the welfare checks in my hands. I was in charge. I had the money, I had the power. I don't know if you'd know how good that feels, to be able to be in control of something in your life. Then things changed. I still felt like I needed to fuck, so hell, I fucked. And I quickly learned how to be on top. To **be** the top. To be the one who abuses and takes advantage. To be able to take all you can before they take everything from you. I know you heard it from Xander's point of view; does it make a difference to hear it from mine? He's a nice guy, but it doesn't matter, does it? A guy's a guy, and to me, they were all out for the same thing. Big stereotype, but who's ever tried to show me different? Men are all beasts, and women are just bitches. I don't trust either.

Then she died. Kendra. I didn't know her, didn't even know she existed, but there I was, in the middle of a dance floor and something hits me like a Mack truck in full speed. I thought, 'This is it. This is how I'm gonna die.' But no. I got a Watcher instead. Sweet lady, a little formal, but she took me out of that dump of a house and did the whole training business. I guess it's a little different for you, cause I doubt you wanted to turn away all the good things life had to offer. But I needed this. This was something that made me different. It gave me power. And a chance to prove myself to myself. I had nothing in the old life and I wanted nothing more than to be needed for once. Therein lies the problem. We were both new at it, eager, young, and got stuck in a fucking mess of a problem that I hope you and Giles never go through.

Kakistos. A real fucking bastard if I knew one. Did things to my Watcher that makes my torture on Wesley look elementary. But what I saw, well, it taught me all the basics. Vamps were bad news, and in my head, they all needed to die. Good, bad, soul, soulless...they all deserved to die. I left an ugly scar on his already ugly mug, but I ran before he could do anything about it. A fucking coward, that's what I was. Yellow-bellied piece of shit. Thought I was hot shit and I couldn't even save my Watcher from a vamp.

Don't look at me like that, and don't speak. I'm not done and I won't be able to start if you interrupt me. Thanks.

Anyways, where was I? Oh yea. Me running. So I ran. I took off like hell was on my ass cause I was scared. Fourteen, maybe fifteen years old and an ancient vamp on your trail looking for your blood on his fangs. Fucked up shit, man. Then I remember I'm not the only Slayer. Of course I remember, cause that's where you fit into my life. I didn't even know you, but I knew everything I needed to know.

The Council loved you.

To be more specific, my Watcher did. I'm pretty sure she had the hots for you and she'd have killed Giles if it meant being your Watcher. I know all the Watchers-in-Training were just waiting for G-man to fall from his Watcher throne. I mean, Jesus, B. I was way over in Boston and you were in SunnyD and I already sorta hated your guts. Everything I did was in comparison to what you did. Nothing I did was original, because I wasn't **the** original. Yea, I was next in line, and I'm a Chosen, but I wasn't meant to be. If you'd never died and life went on, I'd probably be in that Boston shithole, wasting away at the bottom of the barrel like my mom did, wondering how I could've gotten my life into so much shit. But there I was. I don't know why I went to see you. I guess I really wanted to know. The infamous Buffy Summers. The Chosen Slayer. I wondered how I'd match up. Didn't figure I'd fuck up as bad as I did. But shit happens, right?

So I end up at Sunnydale and first thing I think to scope out is a place to stay. Found some flea-pit motel and decided, well, it looks like home, so there it is. But the whole time I'm thinking about where you are, who you'll be with, what you're like, the whole deal. Then I wonder if you'll like me. And I hoped to the PtB (or God, whatever) that you do. It was a pathetic moment for me, wishing that some chick will dig me as a friend or something. Kinda stupid, now that I think about it, but I can't blame me for that one. The one crime I didn't commit was that I never had friends. I didn't know how to make'm. Sure, I've met a lot of people I've hit it off with, but they always leave. They always have better people to go to. I'm pretty second-rate, as a Slayer, and even as a human, but we all knew that the second y'all saw me, right? Nobody could outdo you, B. Only an idiot would try.

And that idiot was me.

I did what I was asked, I followed orders, went to the meetings that included me, did the good deeds, whatever. Good Faith. Pat on the head, move on. But nothing I did was even close to what you did. Buffy's amazing, Buffy saved the world alone again, Buffy died for us, Buffy this, Buffy that. The worst part about it? You hardly looked at me. I wasn't a blip unless I was the only one in your presence. And whenever you talked to me it wasn't you. It wasn't Buffy Summers, normal human girl with normal human feelings. It was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, always about business. Didn't really go out of your way to be my friend, did ya, B? No big. It was dumb of me to expect different. Insane. You heard the whole insanity theory, right? Doing the same thing over and over, expecting something different each time? That's me. When will I ever learn that people are all the same? I don't even know.

Giles loved you. Still loves you.

I saw it in his eyes. Still there, always will be. Your real dad's probably a dick, but here you got yourself a real gem of a father figure. Jealous? Fuck yea. I spent some nights just wishing I had a dad who looked at me like that. Lucky you, right? Golden Girl, Little Miss Perfect, whatever. You were his little girl, still are. Is it nice? I remember the feeling, but you and your Scooby Gang killed him straight and proper. And I helped you, didn't I? Slayer dream and whatnot? I helped unconsciously, to destroy the one man who loved me like I mattered. God. The irony of it all.

Shut the fuck up. I'm not crying. I'm fucking fine. I said shut up!

I'm so fucked up, I can't even stay on one side or the other for long. Fucked up things with you guys, then I help bring the end of the only person I could call family. I just ruin everything, don't I?

Doesn't matter who I'm with, I'll always feel inferior. I could be with the lowest of the low and everyone, even I, will still find something to make me the lower. I mean, it's okay that Angel, Spike, even Anya were evil once. Of course it's okay. It was in their nature. It's okay that Willow turned into an evil witch and nearly destroyed the world as we know it. Because she was grieving. What's a few casualties here and there? They're all good on the inside. Goddamnit. Spare me the fucking antics and let's get onto the ones we can't seem to forgive, shall we? Faith, for instance. Mm. It's always different with Faith, always will be. Oh man, she's a plain fucking psycho. She's worse than any vampire or demon we've faced. Worse than most evils. We would kill her if we could. Hell, why the fuck not? Let's do it. As long as she's gone, the world is safe. As long as we don't have to see her face again.

Well let me clue you into the flaws in all those excuses. In their nature? True enough. Soulboy and Spike had no choice when they were turned, did they? Fall into a vampy style and kill whatever crosses their paths with a pulse. I didn't have much a choice either, did I? I just fell into the Slayer stride and Slayed, just as you did. I distinctly remember somebody pushing Finch into my way. Slaying. It's just what we do, B. You knew that. Then there's the re-ensouling. I seem to recall moments when there were deaths. Kills. Murders, even, with souls brimming in their ridiculously handsome bodies. **With** souls, those two have done some pretty fucked up shit. I'm trying not to use excuses, but what, does that just mean I'm not allowed my own couple of mistakes? Not even one? Fine. I can live with that. I fucked up pretty bad, B, I can see why the Scoobs hated my guts. Hell to all, I **know** why. But when I hear the fucking excuses that Red gets for her power control loss, I've just about had it. Good, dark, really fucking dark, then good again. No qualms, right?

Tell me if I look like I was born evil. Cause I'm damn well sure I wasn't. I was born human. Just like Giles, like Xander, like Willow, like Angel, like Dawn, like you. I had a sense of morals. A sense of judgement. Does it bother you that I am exactly what you all are? Human? Most of my morals went flying out the window, but the fuck if I cared. In all my life, I grew up thinking - **knowing **- that sometimes the wrong things keep you satisfied. But petty things. It always starts off with the petty things, doesn't it? Go from shoplifting candy bars at the age of 4 to murder one when you're 16 years old. Jesus. Fucked up shit. Anyways, even back then, I still tried to work for good. I did try. But then I went bad. Dark. Evil. Whatever. And now I'm re-hauling boxes for the good guys, right? I mean, I feel pretty confident that I've done enough to show it. To prove it. Whether I did it for you guys or not, I'll never know, but I know I'm not evil. Bad, occasionally. Maybe. But I guess Red's worth her weight in gold just as much as I'm worth mine in dogshit, cause hell. You guys have known her all your lives. Of course you felt that way. Of course it's right to forgive Willow and her tragic change. I would've, easy. Cause I mean, it's not like you didn't try to really get to know me...

Oh wait. That's right. You didn't try. Well I guess that was just a big "FUCKED" stamped across my forehead, yea?

Hey. Listen. No, I mean **listen**, damnit! When I said you didn't try, I meant before the murder rap. Before the big bad Faithy betrayal thing went down. Before my jealousies and fascinations that were exclusively **you **crashed together and created hatred. You know what I'm talking about, so stop acting stupid.

All the weight of the world...

I guess that's what it felt like. What it feels like, carrying all the baggage that sticks to you as you go on. Except I didn't have any friends to help me carry it when I needed them too. Didn't trust enough, I guess. Not so big on people; they always let you down. Best defense is to let them down, too. Or shove'm down; whichever one you're good at. It explains our sitch, yea? We both had a shitload to handle. Finch's death, for one. But one of my largest mistakes wasn't actually killing him. It was outwardly pushing it onto you. I didn't want to handle it. Not in front of other people, and definitely not with you. Didn't want to know that I'd fucked up the only thing worth doing in my life...again. So I pushed it onto you, and in the end, you pushed right fucking back. Literally. Way I figure, it killed me and saved me at the same time.

Xander loves you.

Willow loves you.

God, what I'd give to have had friends like them. To **have** friends like them. Never giving up, never willing to back down on you. To love you so unconditionally...it makes me fucking sick to my stomach. The puppy-like, pussy whipped loyalty they've got for you. It's pretty fucking ridiculous, if you ask me. But that's what makes you you, B. Your friends, your family, your history. It makes you the perfect girl you were then, it makes you that perfect girl you are now. Yea. Perfect. Minute I clapped my shit-brown eyes on you I fell harder than Romeo did for Juliet and vice fucking versa. And what a fucking joke. Out of all the people in the world, I fall in love with the one person I knew I was never gonna get. Fucking unattainable, remember?

They'll never give up on you, B. Don't take that for granted, else I'll kick your blonde ass. They're the best friends anyone could ever have. And sometimes I want to shake you and make you see how great they are, but I know you know. You love'm. Anybody can see that. Anybody. Even a stupid lowlife like me can see it. It drove me crazy. It shouldn't have, but living so long in the fucking dark, and seeing all that light, all that love. Crazy. You already know how crazy. No excuses. There aren't any to give. Just explanations for what I did. I don't know. It's tough, growing up and not understanding life and why things are the way they are. So I figure I'd thrust responsibilities on other people. I didn't care hardly enough whether I died or not. I still don't care. Remember Jane, the doc? She did another scan and she says some of the dead tissue inside are gonna take a long time to mend. I guess it's a good fucking metaphor for who I was. Who I am. Dead and trying to revive myself. At least, the human part of me.

Dawn. Squirt loves you.

And Joyce loved you more than anything in the world.

Never had much of a family. I bet it's really nice. You're one lucky chick, B. Beautiful, smart, strong as hell, dedicated to working with the good, a family and friends to boot. Shit. No wonder I couldn't match up. No wonder I still can't. You're just about near perfect and I'm your exact opposite. I'm the embodiment of your darkness. If you had any, that is. But that's me. I'm the yin to your yang, baby, and there's nothing any of us could do about it. Ever wonder if I was meant to be bad? That I was meant to be hated? Nah. It would just give me another scapegoat to use. I messed up big time, with and without your help. I know it. You know it. We all know it. But Christ, B. Can't you guys just...please...give me a break? It hurts so bad I can't even take it anymore. Never was as strong as you, but then again, I guess you wouldn't know what this feels like. I can feel it, every day. Down to the very last goddamn second, I can feel it. The guilt. Man, I fucked up.

Man.

It feels really weird, admitting it to you, but I guess there's a first time for everything. Life's tough, but so am I. I guess I'm not planning on going down easy anymore. I wanted to die. I needed to. Sometimes I can still hear that old me telling me I deserve it. But maybe I can get through it. Just maybe.

I loved you. Still love you, sadly enough.

See how that turned out? Wasn't your fault. Wasn't mine. It's the fucking Powers that let it happen, and I wish I could find them just so I can beat their asses down for it. If I'd been satisfied with just being the second-rater as I was, things would've been different. I guess I still had ambitions, and it seriously got the best of me. Fucking shit. Just wanted to be something, you know? Okay it sounds stupid, but I really did. I wanted to be someone people could look at and say,

"Wow. That's Faith. She's a hero."

...and that worked out, right? Haha! Whoo, that sure went along great! My plans for hero-dom really fucking worked, didn't it? HA. Ha. ha...eh.

Sorry. Don't know what happened. Just lost it. Anyways. Where was I?

Oh yea. Me trying to be a hero. HAHA!

Ow!

Okay, okay. I just...I just wanted that so much. To be someone important. To somebody. To anybody. You were already there, B. Sunnydale already had you, Willow, Xander, Giles, Angel, Oz...everybody to help them. The perfect super group, and I wasn't meant to be a part of that. I knew it the second I saw you guys. I wasn't meant to be there. Kind of like how sometimes I don't feel like I'm meant to be here. I mean, there's less of the hostility thing, and less of the Faith-is-evil-let's-kill-her tension, but it's just...It just doesn't feel completely right. I'm always gonna feel wrong, B. Around you, around Red, Xander, Giles...I'm never going to feel like I can fit in, cause of our history. There was a time in our lives when you guys hated me, and I wanted you all to suffer more than anybody else could imagine.

And now...it's just too late to change that.

* * *

Buffy's POV

"I never hated you, Faith."

With a derisive snort, she looks down at me. Shaking her head, she leans her head back against the wall.

"Sure, B."

"I didn't. Wanted to hurt you, yes, but I never hated you."

"Sure seemed like it. Not that I'm blaming you. I would've."

"Well I didn't."

There was no conversation left until the dawn finally broke and sunlight peered through the ceiling. Skylights, you gotta love them.

"Sleep, B?"

"Definitely."


	21. Chapter 21

**So this chapter is the more M rated part. It's Faith. There's no way you can have a proper fanfic about her without getting down and dirty. No worries, it doesn't get into too much detail, and it cuts off before the intensity occurs (apologies to the perverted readers. jk.)**

**It's a little short, but I've been gone the past few days. Anywho, enjoy and review!**

She's thrown her arm around me casually, as if it's just a gesture of friendship, but I know what it really is. She can't walk without help, but I pretend it's all casual, I don't want to ruin her precious rep.

While we walk, I can't help but dwell upon everything that just happened. She just threw bits her past, her life, at my feet. And I soaked it all in, listening to the sound of her tough-as-nails voice wash over me. Or crash over me. All the anger, all the pain, all the guilt. Her words finally mean something to me now, and it makes me angry all over again.

You don't deserve our forgiveness, and you don't deserve our love.

But I know it isn't true, because I know it isn't what I believe. Because now, she knows. I whispered the deepest and darkest of my secrets to her, and she knows.

_"I love you, too." _

That's what I said. That's what she heard.

It's different with her, because what she'd told me; it didn't surprise me. I didn't really know, but I knew at the same time. It caught me by surprise, but then again, it made sense. I didn't assume, but there was no need for assumptions; she made it loud and clear that she wanted something from me. Was it friendship? Attention? Sex? Love? What did she want?

"Nothing you could've given me then, B." I hear her yawn nonchalantly.

"Wasn't ready, then." She finishes thoughtfully. We reached my bedroom door, and I turn to look at her.

"Are you ready now?" I search her face for the answer. I need to know. Because I am.

"I was ready the second I turned myself in, B. Neither of us knew it then, is all."

What a liar. She knew it. She always knew-

* * *

Narrative

Whatever possessed them the first time possessed them now.

Faith pressed her lips against the other girls, who's eyes widened before they closed in passion. Light, open kisses. Faith's hands suddenly found their resting place on Buffy's hips, but just like their owner, they weren't meant to stay still for long. One snaked up slowly, reaching underneath the shirt, flesh touching flesh. Buffy gasped, and Faith seized control as she let her tongue slide in gently. At first, that is. Soon their bodies were touching and the heat was rising, Buffy's lips and teeth caressing the other's neck, while Faith took the pleasure of undoing her partner's bra. As soon as it was undone, her hand cupped Buffy's breast, and was awarded by a moan and a gasp. She grinned roughly.

"Gonna invite me inside, B?"

"..mmh?" Buffy couldn't respond, her mind was on the soft hand massaging her breast.

"Inside, B. As much as I'd love to do this outside, it's a PG 13 rating out here." Faith was greatly amused, and when Buffy couldn't answer again, she pushed with her body and Buffy's air was lost as she was lightly slammed against the door.

_Ah. The door. Right._

She reached for the doorknob, but fumbled so miserably that Faith growled in her impatience. Bodily lifting Buffy's legs up to wrap around her waist, she opened the door herself and walking in she slammed it shut behind her. Not quite throwing, but not quite laying down, she somehow got Buffy onto the bed without injuring her.

"Guess I'm gonna be doing everything tonight?"

No answer.

"Alright, B. I don't mind at all."

She was on top, like she always was, but this was different. This was Buffy Summers, friend, enemy, and now lover? If she'd had the time, she would've pondered more upon it, but her arousal refused to let her think, and drove her into a mode where things were all primitive and all instinct. Though with this gender, it came mostly through practice, if you got what she meant.

The shirt was first to go, then the bra was flung into the dark recesses of the room. She spent a little time playing with Buffy's breasts. Oh yes, she'd spent many an hour fantasizing about those breasts, hell be damned if she didn't take some time with her two new best friends. Thank god the girl was wearing pajamas. No buttons. She tore them off eagerly and was about to pull down the panties when she paused. Now wasn't the time for fast and furious. Oh ho no. This was payback time. Show B a little of what exactly she missed the first time around.

Buffy shivered, not from the cold, but from the excitement that tore through her when she saw that impish gleam in Faith's eyes. She wanted to tell her to take the damn panties off, but her voice wasn't working all that well. So she reached with her shaking fingers to pull them off herself, but Faith stopped her.

"Ah ah, B. My treat, tonight. Your hands should stay here-" She placed one hand a little to the side.

"-and here." And the other to its own side.

"See? Easy grip access on the bed." She smirked as Buffy's hand immediately squeezed the life out of the fabric sheets.

Placing herself completely on top of the smaller girl, she let a kiss linger on her lips before tentatively kissing downwards. She stopped again at the breasts, receiving more moans of pleasure, then continued downwards. Buffy's body tensed as she reached the edge of her panty line. With a grin, she let the tip of her tongue caress, through the thin cotton, the source of Buffy's heat very, very lightly.

The rest, is history.

* * *

Buffy's POV

Faith

Fucked

My

Brains

Out

.

* * *

Faith's POV

Just so you know, dawn breaks around 7:00 am. Got it? Good.

So it's 1 pm now, and lets say that a good four hours ago, I finally finished completely fucking Buffy's brains out.

**Literally.**

I mean I was thinking about calling Red in to repair her. I thought I broke her or something, what with her just lying there after...you know. No sounds, no movement other than the heavy breathing that typically follows. Her eyes were closed and mouth was slightly open, taking in air shakily. Body still kinda trembling, but otherwise dead still. You'd be scared, too, right? That just usually never happens for so long. Then again, I kind of throw them out before I can see if they've recovered. I guess that explains it. It's not like I could throw Buffy out. It was her room we did it in. And I really didn't want to leave. So...I had to check. Make sure I didn't kill her.

Or put her in some state of catatonia. Cause that would suck. A lot.

_"B?"_

_"..."_

_"Uh...B? You good?"_

_"..."_

_"Alright, freaking me out here, Summers. Hello? Hellooo...?"_

_"..."_

_"BUFFY!"_

_"...hungh?"_

_"You good?"_

_"...you...that was...wow..."_

_"Okay, that's all I needed."_

Honestly. Just needed to make sure she wasn't dead. Which she wasn't, obviously. So I just grinned some more and let her have some rest. Cause God knows I worked her hard. Whoo. It was pretty intense. We've all heard of multiple orgasms. Not just two or three. I mean like way over the top.

They definitely exist.

Any doubt in my mind? Gone. Poof. Buh bye, cause the Goddess of Sex and Wine - that's me - is here to prove it all wrong.

But maybe first we'll change the 'Wine' to 'Liquor'. Although, I admit, 'Sex and Wine' just flows better than 'Sex and Liquor'. Ah fuck it. I'm the Goddess of Sex and Liquor. Get over it.

Alrighty. Shower time.


	22. Chapter 22

**Ahh, I know I know, it's been a little while, I'm sorry! School's been kicking my ass, so it's taking longer and longer to find time to actually write this shit out. But I promise I haven't forgotten you guys, or the story. It's just gonna be a little time between updates, kay?**

**Keep reviewing, it helps motivate me to continue the story. Oh, and check out 'Running Free', the oneshot that I wrote. I want feedback.**

**And also, I know Faith seemed a bit egocentric, but that's just who she is. You'll get a bit of why. Hopefully. Sorry if it's not clicking right.**

I let the water engulf me, with some tuneless humming resonating from behind my smiling lips. I don't recall ever feeling so satisfied. Not just sexually, but emotionally. Mentally. It's as if being with Buffy brought me a moment of clarity in which I can finally be at peace with myself.

Damnit.

My mind reels and behind closed eyes I see it.

_"Buffy...buffy please..." I'm crying, desperately trying not to._

_"Buffy...buffy..." Calling her name. With abandon._

_"I love you...I love you..." _

_"I love you, too..." She whispers back. _

_She loves me, too._

I can taste vomit in the back of my throat, and I stumble forward blindly, slipping on wet tile.

Why can't I see?

"Faith?" I hear her voice, faint through the sound of cascading water and the pounding in my head.

I must have my eyes closed, cause I'm not seeing anything else but black. But that doesn't explain why I suddenly can't hear anything but a distant ringing in my ears. Or why I can't feel the water anymore.

_"No matter what you do, Buffy will always see you as a killer. Not as a person."_

_"A word of advice: You're an idiot!"_

_"You're just a worthless whore!"_

The words start crashing into me, faster and faster, everything I tried to hide swirling around me in a whirlwind. A torrent of forbidden years. Years I never wanted to remember. Years I locked away, so as never to reveal them again. Details I had to erase, but couldn't, because things like that don't lose themselves but they stay. They stay and they haunt and they curdle like milk gone sour, burning away at your insides like acid, emptying **again** that hole you try to fill every single day with the smallest of things. Like that small little smile that Buffy relents to me when I say something ridiculously hilarious but she doesn't want to admit it. Or the ever so Summers pout she puts out when she doesn't get her way. Or the way her hands fit in mine. Or-

I scream as pain shoots through my abdomen. At least, I try to. But it makes no sound. My voice seems to be missing. Everything seems to be missing.

What is wrong with me?

"Faith? I'm coming in!"

I black out.

* * *

Buffy's POV

I find her lying on the bathroom floor, face in a distressed expression, as if she's in some sort of pain. But she's not moving. It hardly looks as though she's breathing. I, being a genius, decide to stoop over to shake her awake, praying to God that she wasn't too badly hurt. That she would wake up.

Ha. Never again.

My hand brushed her shoulder and before I can say her name, her eyes snap open and her legs wrap around me tightly and throws me down; as far as she could away from where she is. Which means I am whammed against the door and sliding down to meet my new best friend, the floor.

Hello, floor, I'm Buffy. So nice to meet you. Would you like to go out sometime? Perhaps some coffee? My treat.

Hearing a noise, I look up with a pounding head and a dazed . She's scrambling up wildly, her fists clenched and ready to fight. Then she sees me and my bloody nose and the stance drops immediately.

"Shit, B. I'm so sorry, I didn't know." She grabs hold of a rag and comes to kneel beside me and starts dabbing at my face, a guilty little grin on her drop-dead gorgeous face.

"You better not be laughing at my expense, Faith." I growl, my voice not coming out quite as threatening as I want it to, due to the nasal cavity blockage of blood.

"Who's laughing, B?" She glances around mockingly, as if there are people there. Then facing me with an innocent smile, she shrugs.

"See? No one."

With a sigh, I roll my eyes and lean my head against the door.

"I hate you, Faith."

"Aw, I love ya too, B."

I can't help but let the small smile slip. I'm acting like a teenager again. She says those words and here I am, blushing like an acne-riddled, hormone-raging adolescent idiot. Ugh. Idiot.

"Not an idiot, girlfriend. Just silly."

* * *

I let her clean me up and suddenly I realize that she's bare naked, and the water's been running. The steam was condensing on any surface it touched, and I'm staring up into those deep brown eyes, wondering how I ever got to fall in love with a girl like Faith. I had been so desperate to hate her, to condemn her, because of all she'd done. Her betrayal had hit me hard. Because nobody has ever betrayed me like that, to the point where I wanted nothing more than to kill them. She'd shaken up my world and hurt me, and others that I loved. I didn't get her. I couldn't. It would've meant recklessness. Hopelessness. Losing control of my emotions. But it was enticing. It was so cruelly attractive, and that little taste she gave me that night; I fell in love without realizing it.

"B, I'm gonna have to tear your clothes off if you keep looking at me like that." She half whines, half growls. I shudder at the sound. I want to retort, but I can't, she's coming closer. Her face nearing mine, and her lips agonizingly tempting.

"Can I kiss you?" She whispers.

Can she kiss me?

"God, yes."

Her lips touch mine, and I close my eyes as her hands cup my face lovingly. Without any force. Without any roughness. It's soft, it's calm, it's so unlike Faith. Or maybe it is like Faith; and we just didn't know it. I moan softly as we kiss lightly, delicately, no tongue but only soft open kisses. My hands leave a trail on her bare skin and suddenly my lips only meet air. I open my eyes.

"God. Buffy..." She looks regretful.

Why does she look regretful?!

"What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?"

"No! No, you're fine. It's just..." She turns to avoid my eyes, but I force her chin back to look at me.

I want to know what's wrong.

I **need** to know.

Her eyes show me nothing, for some reason, but her voice resonates in my mind.

_I want this._

_But I can't do this._

_I feel this._

_But I don't deserve you._

_I need this._

_But I don't know how to love._

"I'll show you how. I'll teach you." I say too quickly.

"How do you know I can?"

"Because we both saw it - **felt** it - last night. Don't push it all on your ability to have great sex, because we both know that isn't true."

"I know."

"See? You're learning already!"

"Hunh?"

"Admitting that you love someone is the first and hardest step." I pause to think. And then finish.

"For most people."

"Yea. Not for me. At least, to myself. Accepting the fact that they can't love you back takes me the longest. Took me the longest. But then again, I haven't gotten past that." Now she pauses and turns away, before looking back at me.

"What comes next?"

"I guess you need to learn to accept someone else's love. **Mine**." I say it forcefully. I need to get it into her head that I'm here. That I'm ready. That we both are.

"I just can't lose you again, B. I did it once, I hardly did it twice. I couldn't do it again." Her jaw clenches for a moment, and the look that passes over her face is devastating. No normal human perception would've caught it. But as human as I am now, I'm still nothing near normal. It was slight enough for me to see it.

"You won't lose me, Faith. I'm not going anywhere."

"I trust you, B." She says softly, and the weight of her trust lies heavily on my shoulders.

"I know."


	23. Chapter 23

**Thanks for the feedback. Review. Enjoy this chapter, past chapters, and all future chapters. Review. Go read "Running Free". Review. If things get a little confusing, there's always a reason for it, so be patient, and I...love you.**

**And review, damnit.**

Faith's POV

"Faith." Giles starts.

Buffy and I had gotten dressed and joined the others downstairs for a meeting. Apparently we're still slowly trudging along. How fucking irritating.

Kennedy smirked and made a face at me, while Willow and Buffy were giggling together like little girls. When Xander was informed about me and Buffy through their eager whispering he turned so pink I thought he'd transformed into a fucking flower.

"Don't break him with the details, B." I warn her jokingly, winking at Willow visibly.

"Details? What details? I didn't hear about any details!" He squeaks like a fucking mouse.

"Ooh, fill **me** in!" Kennedy wraps her arms around Willow suggestively, who also turns red. Fitting, ain't it? We all burst out laughing when Giles called my name.

"Faith!" He says again.

"Yea?"

"About your telepathy; there is no suggestion that any past occurrences could have brought this about. Perhaps you've had this ability throughout your Slayer life?" He glances at me over his glasses hopefully.

Think about it, Giles. If I did, I would've been in so much power back in Sunnydale, it wouldn't even be funny to me.

"Unfortunately, Giles, that's a no go. Definitely didn't have mental messaging before that night. Unless I have some sort of power thing I just never tapped into before."

"Ah well, I suppose we'll figure it out eventually. Rather a spot of luck for it coming to use."

We all nod in robotic agreement. None of us care about the telepathy, or research. We're all cooped up in this goddamn building, with near 30 Slayers less the power and a fucking vampire army probably growing as we speak. Get on with it, already.

So far, all we know is that it's not the demon that was able to take Slayer powers, it was the Master. He put some sort of twist on an ancient spell of exorcism to use it on us lovely, good Slayers, and for some reason, it missed me.

The only way to return the powers? Destroy the Master, or get Red to research and magic it all back.

Who is the Master? We have no fucking clue.

What about the vampires working for them? Obviously just our typical bloodthirsty vampires.

So what now? We're not sure.

"We need to do something. Anything!"

"Although I am in complete agreement, Faith, we don't have a plan. We don't even know what we're up against." Giles rubs his weary fingers against his throbbing temple. Poor man. He's been working like a maniac; and we were all hoping for some sort of break. One fucking apocalypse after the other for the Scoobs, yea?

"Wills, how's the spell coming along, then? For us useless ex-Slayers?" Buffy asks. Willow gives us all a very nervous looking half-smile.

"W-well, I've been doing some re-research, and it's possible, but it's gonna take a lot of t-time, and a lo-lot of power." She looks as though she'll faint. Kennedy squeezes her hand gently.

"It'll be good, Red. You always pull through. Oh, and I still need to talk to you about that other project we've got going on." I say pointedly. She nods and smiles a little wider, eyes shining in excitement.

Now excuse me for deviating off the damn depressing subject, but I know the world will be glad to hear that Willow and I may have found a way to bring Anya back. Jump up and down for joy, bitches, cause I was when we figured it out. I had gone to her with the problem and through research, which Xander owes me big time for, we found it. I'd put a lot of thought into it after one night when me and my favorite X-man were hanging out. This was during the month after my little breakdown. Before the week of paralyzation. He learned to trust me, and I made myself trustworthy. We'd hung out already a couple times, watching movies, reading comics, me beating his ass in arm wrestling, so on so forth.

But there was one night when we'd gone to get some drinks and just talk...

* * *

Already there was sweat on his brow and a slur in his speech. His head lolled about and there was a glaze over his eyes that I could spot a mile away. We'd taken a couple shots of vodka and rum, and add some really shitty beer to the mix. My metabolism allows me to loosen up, but ever since I received my powers, I haven't been able to get drunk off of anything less than barrels and barrels of hard liquor. Xander, on the other hand, was drunk off his pitiful yet lovable human ass.

"Doing alright there, Xander?" I asked, laughing at his attempt to stack his shot glasses on top of one another.

"Mmhmm. Jusssmphfine." He hiccuped, giggling. I shook my head and asked the adorable waitress for another shot of Crown.

"Mmee tooo, puh-leeese!"

"I don't think so, X-man. You've had enough for tonight."

He slammed a fist into the booth table and gave me a dirty look.

"I wanna fuh-gin drink!"

I turned and motioned for her to hold the drinks for now. She nodded and walked away. Then I turned back to Xander.

"What's the fucking matter?"

"Sorrrry. Sorry, Aann, I'mm sooo sorry..." He started crying into his hands, just sobbing the words 'sorry' and 'Anya' every few seconds.

It took me a while to digest it, but I did. And I didn't know what to do. But somehow I ended up on his side of the table, and holding him as he bawled like a little boy into my shoulder. It was a long time before his sobs died down and all he he had left were the dry shakes that happen after a good long cry. He was then lying in my lap, and my hand stroking over his hair softly.

"An?" His hand reached up and touched my face gently.

I froze. Shit. I didn't know what to do.

"Anya, baby?"

Guess I had to answer.

"Ye-yes?"

He smiled up at me, eyes twinkling with tears.

"Do you forgive me?"

"For what?"

"For not being there when you died?"

So. That's what's been bothering him the whole time. What's been haunting him. That he wasn't able to be with her when she died.

Oh god, Xander. Anya knew what the risks were, and as she fell I know she always knew you loved her. That you would always still love her.

"There's nothing to forgive, Xander. I know you love her-uh, me. I always knew."

I was feeling guilty about trying to impersonate a dead person, but I also got the feeling that Anya wanted me to. And that Xander needed me to.

"I should've been there, An. I should've been there. And we never even..." He started to cry again.

"Don't be silly, honey. I may not be a demon, but I'm still not dense enough to be human! We were madly in love, and my passing was awfully tragic but Xander, you can't keep blaming yourself for it. I swear, you humans and your guilty conscience!"

The words seemed to be coming from my mouth without any of my control. As if, maybe, Anya was trying to make her final goodbyes to Xander through me. I could almost feel her presence inside me, begging me to let her do this, to love Xander again because she couldn't anymore. I relaxed my mind and let her. Go for it, babe.

He had a moment of giggling and sobbing at the same time, fingers entwined in my hair.

"Oh An. I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too. And the sex. God knows I've missed the sex."

_I should've known this was going to happen. Damn you, Anya._

"It's good to hear your voice again, An. To see your face."

Okay...so I guess someone must've put something in his drink, because I definitely have no resemblance whatsoever to Anya. No, really. Blonde doesn't work for me at all.

"Oh stop with the human mushy-ness, it's not what I came for!"

"It isn't?"

"Of course not. I'm here to tell you that I'm in a good place, and so are you, and you should be happy. Even if there's no sex."

Another chuckle.

"I couldn't be happy without you and your strangely literal way of taking things."

"Well life goes on. Always has, always will. There might not be any more orgasms for me, but I wish upon you an orgasm friend that you will learn to love and cherish and not obey." I can't believe those words came from my mouth. To Xander, of all people.

_Anya, I despise you. Eternally. _

"I could never learn to do that with someone who wasn't you, An."

"Well fine. Be miserable. Just so as long as you know that I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Good. Now do as I say and be happy, enjoy your sports and movies of action and your like of staring at the bosoms of the female anatomy. And don't let the world be overrun by bunnies."

His eyes closed for a moment, and he looked at peace.

"Thank you, An..." He murmured softly as he slowly drifted into unconsciousness.

"...thank you..."


	24. Chapter 24

**Thanks for the reviews. This one's a little longer than the past few updates. Enjoy and review, just so I have a reason to keep writing.**

I had managed to get him back to the headquarters on my own, and for some reason I just kept wandering around the dim lit mansion until Willow finally opened her door and stopped me.

"Faith, what's wrong?"

I stared at her, opened my mouth, then closed it. I blinked. My mouth opened again, and again it shut. Willow gave me a small smile, and pulled me inside one of the empty conference rooms. Shutting the door, she turned back towards me and gave me her infamous Resolve Face.

"Spill it, Faith. In all my years of knowing you, you've always had a good story to tell."

Ha! I knew she always liked my stories.

But now wasn't the time to revel in it. Now was the time to - as she so quaintly put it - spill.

"Anya. Can you bring her back?" Okay. So I never really got over being straight to the point.

"I mean, I just had the most fucked up moment with Xander, and it had nothing to do with sex. Except when Anya kept talking about it, and that was just fucking...fucked up." I'm not so good with explaining myself. But I knew Willow didn't mind it. She knows the score.

Now, at least.

"Oookay then. Let's start over, shall we?" She pulled up two chairs and we sat. And I started over.

When I finished my story, Willow was crying. Though I would normally feel awkward and try to make it seem light, I didn't. I felt awkward, yes, but I didn't pull some unnecessary joke out from my ass just to tease her and make the situation more uncomfortable. I've learned to think before I act; it happens when you've been in prison for a long time. So I thought, and I acted. I pulled her into a hug, and her arms wrapped around me tightly as she let loose. She sobbed and shook and I just held her. What else was I supposed to do?

"Goddess, I'm sorry. I-I've gotten your jacket all w-wet!"

"Yea, thanks. I guess I don't have to wash it again." We laughed, and she cleaned up her face as best as she could.

"So, Red. You think you could do it?"

"Yes, I think I can. I'll just need to do some more research, but I'll need some help."

"Christ." I grit my teeth audibly, and frowned. But with a loud sigh I pouted and gave in.

"Xander owes me big time."

"What? I'm the one bringing her back!"

"Yea, but you love doing the research and magic shit."

"Right. That's me, Researcho-Girl to the rescue. Goddess, is that all I'm good for around here?"

"Just about, Researcho-Girl." I ducked a flying book. I gave her a mock look of horror.

"You trying to kill me, witch?"

"Just about, Rogue Slayer." As soon as the words come out of her mouth she slaps a hand over it, eyes wide.

I grinned. Apparently I'm not as sensitive as I used to be, cause insults like that don't hurt anymore.

"It's cool, Red. I'm glad you kept the pair you grew that night in the office, yea?"

She smiled meekly.

"Y-yea. Sorry about that."

"No big. Truth is truth. Kinda wish I had the rest of you, too, instead of just Buffy. If I had friends like you, I...probably would've still left, but I might've regretted it more, you know?"

"W-what?"

"You don't remember? 'It's way too late. You know, it didn't have to be this way. But you made your choice. I know you had a tough life. I know that some people think you had a lot of bad breaks. Well, boo hoo! Poor you. You know, you had a lot more in your life than some people. I mean, you had friends in your life like Buffy. Now you have no one. You were a Slayer and now you're nothing. You're just a big selfish, worthless waste.'"

I almost laughed at the expression on her face after I finished doing my funny hand gestures along with the stuttering voice. But she looked like she was about to cry again, so I didn't.

"Y-you remembered everything I-I said?" She whispered.

Well yea. It's kind of hard to forget things like that.

"Yea. Guess I have a good memory or something."

"I'm so sor-"

"Red." I cut her off.

"Willow. Listen, I fucked up. And I deserved every word of it, except the part about my past, but that's not the point. The point is, I was at that point in my life where I couldn't accept responsibilities for the things I did. Yea, it hurt, but I deserved it. All of it. So don't apologize to me, because I'm the one who's sorry. I'm really, really fucking sorry, and I know it won't fix a damn thing, but I am."

She looked at me with her big sad eyes and smiled as a couple tears fell.

"It fixed a lot of things, Faith."

"Yea, well, we'll worry about that after we bring Anya back, kay?"

So we researched. We hid away at night, highlighting copies of ancient texts, picking out ingredients, looking for a spell. And it paid off.

We'd found it.

* * *

I'm brought back to reality as soon as Gunn mentions increased vampire activity in the area, but not being able to find them.

"It's like they hide away in some secret place as soon as we get there. They don't even bother coming out to fight. There are more and more dead people everyday, but no trace of the bloodsuckers themselves."

"Like an army." Wes states. He looks up at all of us.

"Scavenging, but staying invisible. The contacts we have with the demon world are saying that everybody's packing out. Something is coming, and we must be ready for it."

Lorne jumps in.

"I've also heard that they're looking for a source."

"A source?"

"A source of evil, smothered by good. Everybody has an evil side, but some are more evident and stronger than others. They're looking for someone who's evil hasn't been dormant for long and are probably going to use to to power whatever world domination plot they have going on."

All eyes unconsciously flit towards Angel. His face shows no reaction, but I can read it. I can see everything his cold walls can't say.

_Why me? Why is it always me?_

"I guess what we have to do is obvious, then." He says softly.

"Angel, using you as bait could lead to them capturing you and them tapping into Angelus, which could lead to the apocalypse as we know it." Buffy responds. Undoubtedly, we're all sick of his consistent sacrificial lamb thing. Everything in the world seems to want Angel to be their Jesus Christ, but none of us want that to happen anymore.

"Which isn't exactly what we want." Cordelia speaks up in agreement.

"Then what are we going to do? Who else in here has the whole evil but good problem?" He shouts, obviously frustrated.

_Me._

"I have a plan."

They all stare.

_It's me._

"I'm the only Slayer with her powers left. I am, temporarily, your leader until Red gets your powers going. But until then, I need you guys to follow my plan. And I have a plan."

"Faith-"

"Giles, please."

He clears his throat, but nods at me to go on.

"Listen. I don't know if you can, but I can feel them coming. They're close, they're ready, and it's going to be soon. It could be tonight, tomorrow night, I don't know. But what I do know, is that we need to be ready."

Most of them nod in agreement. Some shuffle. Buffy, Angel, and Kennedy just keep staring.

"All of you girls without your powers, are going to stay inside. This battle, this war, whatever the fuck it is, it's going to stay outside. I can't risk any of you being caught in the middle of it, not without your strength."

"You can't ask us to do that, Faith. There's nobody else to do the fighting!" Kennedy bursts.

"Yea there is, Ken. There's me."

Suddenly everybody starts shouting.

"You can't do this yourself, Faith!"

"It's too dangerous!"

"One Slayer can't do it on her own!"

Okay. Enough already.

"Hey, **shut up**!"

They do.

And I start pacing.

"When they start their attack, I'm going out there alone to mess it up." I raise my hands up to silence them as they begin to protest again.

"But I won't be completely alone. I want the best archers up near the top story windows. Not on the roofs; they could be lurking around. Once we manage to rough them up a little, I want Angel and co. to get your asses out there and do what you do best. Kick ass."

The Angel Investigations team nods.

"Good. Red will start working on the spell, and hopefully you'll get your powers back before it's all over. The second it's done, I want you girls to join in. But fully armed, and stick together. If you get yourself hurt, I'll personally beat your ass afterwards."

"It's too dangerous."

Oh come on, Buffy. Live a little.

"Come on, B. Have a little Faith."

She doesn't return my grin.

"You could be killed."

"Better than letting you all get killed."

"I won't allow it."

"Sorry B, but for once, my word's going over yours."

"I'm still head Slayer."

"Not without your powers, you're not."

"Faith!" Her fists are clenched as tightly as her jaw, and those beautiful hazel-green eyes are flashing with anger.

"Listen, Buffy. I don't fucking like this any more than you do, but if it means protecting you...guys, then I'm all up for risking my life."

I need her to have noticed the pause, because I need her to know that I'd die to protect her from being hurt. Any of them, naturally, but especially her. She's about as stubborn as a fucking boulder, and I can't risk her or the girls running out there without powers trying to stake vamps that are now twice as strong as they are. No can do.

"As much as I'd like to say I agree with you, Buffy, Faith has a point. It's highly dangerous, but it's a solid plan." Giles' glasses sweeps off his face and is being cleaned for the hundred thousandth time this month.

"Thanks, G-man. Appreciate the confidence."

"Yes, well-"

Suddenly I can't hear his voice, and I can't feel a thing. I feel dizzy again, but I force myself to stay standing. The world blurs for a moment, then returns to normal.

"-and if I recall correctly, you've been having nightmares, yes?"

I freeze. I didn't tell him about those.

"I didn't-"

"I told him." Angel steps forward and I give him a curious look.

"I had night shifts. I usually dropped by to check on you before I turned in. You were tossing and turning, as if you couldn't...and some nights..." He trails off, again with the concern.

I feel like vomiting all over again. Did he see? Did he see all the times when I hurt myself? He couldn't have. Only when I was sleeping did he see me.

"They were really bad, weren't they?"

It was more a statement than a question.

I cringe inwardly as he lays a hand on my shoulder gently. I cringe even more as I see Buffy look between us, brows furrowing. If I didn't know better, I'd say she looks jealous. Actually, no. I'd just say she looks jealous. It's not that I don't want Angel's comfort, I just don't want Buffy to think that we're more than friends.

"Did you notice anything unusual about these dreams?"

Yes.

"No."

"Faith-"

"They were nightmares. That's all."

Nightmares that made me rethink my position on staying alive.

"Well could you explain them in more detail-"

"Giles, they were just bad dreams. Really." I'm starting to sound like Buffy. What the fuck.

"Even so, perhaps knowing the details could assist us in our research-"

I jump up, not understanding why I suddenly feel so panicked.

"I'm **not** gonna get into **specifics** with you, Giles! **They were** **just**. **Fucking**. **Nightmares**!"

I'm shaking, and they're staring.

Eyes, eyes. Everywhere.

Watching me, judging me. Take a good fucking look, why don't you? Laugh at my state, why don't you?

**Fuck.**

What the hell?!

"I need to...take a nap. Sorry, Giles." I rush off before anyone can say a thing.

* * *

I take three steps at a time as I bound to my room and slam the door behind me.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Choke.

I'm coughing, and I suddenly recall the blackout I had earlier. I wonder vaguely why I didn't remember it before, but that doesn't matter so much anymore as I feel a sudden surge of power force itself through me. It doesn't really hurt, but it doesn't feel good. Like someone is forcing themselves into me.

_Let me in, Slayer._

_No._

_Let me free your true self._

_No._

_Let me be you, Faith._

_**No!**_

With that, I push with all my strength against it.

And as soon as it came, it was gone.

* * *

Narrative

"The Slayer proves to be resistant to our advances, Master." The tall thin man bowed gracefully before the throne of lava rock and scorched bones.

"No worries, my faithful servant. All in good time. As long as they believe you to be the one in power, they will only underestimate our plans."

"Indeed, sire."

"Now. Send fair warning to our little Rogue, and remember-"

"No deaths once the witch returns the power to the others."

"Good. Do not waste any time; we must send the Slayer down before the witch fulfill her duties."

"Yes, Master."

"What of the Darkness? You say you've tried to enter her?"

"As wildfire does, Master, it has found itself fueled by the darkness of her past, her actions, her views upon herself. She is struggling to keep her sanity, and slowly she is crumbling. Yet the will over her body is strong, and she does not bend to an entrance of essence."

"Mmm. Yes, that is not the way to break her. She is haunted, but she will not be destroyed under something so simple. The Darkness will come to use only to weaken her, and when the time comes, you know what to do."

"Yes, Master."

"Now go."

All in good time, indeed.


	25. Chapter 25

**Thanks to my faithful reviewers. It's nearing the end, kind of. Enjoy the chapter. **

**Reviews are appreciated.**

It was time.

She ignored the concern, the worries, the protests, everything. The sun was setting and the vampires were stirring. She could feel it in her bones. In her blood. The Slayer in her reared its head and boiled in excitement. It was going to be one hell of a fight. She knew it.

It was stronger, the feeling. The tingle. As if someone intensified every single sense in her body. She could hear conversations through the walls, she could see things that nobody else would ever be able to catch, she could smell the faintest of scents, she could feel the vibrations of a rat in the basement just from placing her bare feet on the floor. So yes, she knew that there were hundreds, maybe thousands of vampires out there, out for her blood. She knew that everybody was just as jittery as they were when they fought the First. Because now, they had no powers. And they only had Faith to follow.

There was no doubt in Faith's mind that they were all wary of her skills in leadership. She knew that the last time she led, she drove them into a trap. She blew it.

"You didn't blow anything. We're just stupid and like to blame other people for a mistake anybody could've made." Kennedy had said.

"Pretty convenient that I'm the one who always makes that mistake." Faith replied coolly.

She glanced around the room, burning into her memory the different objects she knew were important to her.

The broken bedside phone that she'd flung across the room when it kept ringing while she and Buffy were in the middle of a session of intimate lovemaking. The matching bracelets on the drawer that one of the newer Slayers had made for them. The cute little card Buffy wrote during one of Faith's bad days. The dried flower that Faith had picked for Buffy one night while she was out blowing off some steam. The dent in the headboard that was on the receiving end of Faith's fist during one of their many quarrels;

* * *

"Where were you? Where the **hell** were you?!"

Faith dodged the flying perfume bottle and frowned as she heard it break on the door.

"What's your problem, B? I was out patrolling, and I dropped into a bar to get a drink!"

"It's 4 in the fucking morning, Faith!"

"I know what time it is, Twinkie, what's your point?"

"My point is, you never come in this late!"

"I told you, I went and got a fucking-" She paused and counted to three.

"I went and got a drink." She was trying to stay as calm as she could. Sure, Buffy was acting like a maniac; no reason she had to act like one, too.

"Oh you got a fucking drink, is that it?" Buffy paced angrily, kicking clothes and books out of her way, waving her arms around like she was on drugs. Faith thought it probably wasn't far from the truth.

"Was Angel with you?"

"What?"

"Was Angel with you?" She repeated.

"Well, yea."

Buffy cried out in frustration and threw another random object at her lover's head. A hairbrush, this time.

"I knew it! I knew you two were up to something!"

"What the fuck are you talking about? We're friends, Buffy, am I not allowed to have a drink or two with him?"

"Not at 4 in the fucking morning!"

Faith grasped the flailing arms by the wrists and held her tight. Buffy started to cry and tried desperately to break out of the grip.

"Tell me what's the matter, B. What is this about?"

Buffy only shook her head, still trying to break away. But Faith pulled her closer, not leaving her any room to go.

"Buffy. Look at me."

Buffy looked.

"What's this all about?"

"How long have you been with him, Faith? How long have you been lying to me?"

The expressions that fluttered through Faith's face weren't short of incredulous.

"You think me and Angel are together? Are you fucking serious?"

Buffy looked away. Faith couldn't help but laugh.

"My God, B. Is that what's been bothering you the whole time? Angel and I are friends, B. Nothing more, I swear."

"I know what happened between you two on the roof."

Faith froze. She hadn't told anybody except Kennedy, who swore not to tell Willow.

"How-"

"I overheard you talking to Kennedy."

Now Faith was angry.

"You were eavesdropping on me?"

Buffy pulled away, as Faith's grip slipped.

"No! I just...I was just...You guys were talking, and I just happened to hear!" She glared defiantly at her girlfriend, whose lips parted angrily.

"You...God!" Faith slammed her fist into the headboard, leaving a dent that even Xander wouldn't be able to fix.

She was pissed. Why was it that Buffy could push her to the brink of imploding and exploding, and still have her falling madly in love with her every single waking moment of the day? Was it fair? Fuck no. It was flattering that she was jealous of Angel, but Buffy knew better than that, didn't she? She knew better than to doubt Faith and her loyalty and her love. Didn't she? Now Faith wasn't so sure.

"So. You doubting me, then?" Faith forced Buffy to meet her heated gaze.

"Yes." Buffy replied, honestly. Faith wondered if she knew the crushing effects of the feelings behind that one word.

"Of course you are." She sighed out loud.

"I'm not perfect, B, and I know this is the first real relationship I've ever had. But I thought you knew me better now. I thought you knew that I wouldn't do anything to hurt you intentionally. Or am I still that fucked up little girl you knew back in Sunnydale?"

Buffy suddenly began to feel very bad about her little outburst. It wasn't Faith's fault that Angel had come onto her. Hell, it wasn't even Angel's fault. Who could blame him? Just about anybody in the world would have come onto Faith. They still would. Now Faith thought she was back to treating her like the old Faith. She wasn't; she was just worried that Faith might fall into old habits. Like picking someone up, or lying, or running off and away from stability because she simply wasn't accustomed to the idea that people might want her around.

"No, it's not like that. I just worry. You know me, Miss Worry Wart and all that." She smiled, but Faith just turned away, trying to hide the tears that both of them knew were falling.

Buffy knew how much Faith hated to cry. Buffy also knew that she seemed to be the only one who could make Faith cry.

"Don't cry, Faith. Please, don't cry."

"I'm not crying." Faith kept her voice gruff.

"Faith-"

"I'm not crying, damnit!" She shouted to the girl standing behind her. She was shaking, crying, trying not to smack Buffy and trying not to say anything stupid. Whirling around to face the blonde, she started to rant.

"I mean, I'm trying hard to make this work, but why do we always have to end up fighting like this? What the fuck is wrong with-"

Her sentence was never finished, as Buffy's lips crashed into hers hungrily.

They fought for dominance eagerly, clothes being thrown off and bodies being pushed onto the bed. The heat rose, and the night was still young. To them, at the least. They spent the last few hours of darkness touching, kissing, fucking, and loving. Sprawled out on the sheets, they both took in the air they had been deprived of while they stole lingering glances at each other.

"God, you fucking suck, B."

"So I hear."

"Only for me, right?" Faith chuckled.

"Only for you, you greedy pig."

"Oink is my middle name."

"I don't doubt it."

"Good deal."

Pause. Faith turned to her side, propping her head up against her hand.

"You still my girl?"

Buffy looked up into the dark eyes that had her tripping every time she gazed into them.

"Always."


	26. Chapter 26

**Aww, thanks for the reviews, guys. Lots of reviews make a happy author, which leads to faster updates. Haven't heard from some of you in a while, so it's good to see you back in action. In any case, here's the next one.**

**Oh, and check out "Always In My Heart". It's a new fic. F/B as always; different type of POV.**

**Review!**

There was a knock on the door.

"Faith? It's time."

She turned to face the door, the only thing between her and Kennedy, who she could only imagine was feeling rather nervous. Everyone was nervous.

"I'll be right there." She called softly. She could almost see Kennedy nodding and backing away, to give her some space.

She had been getting quieter over the past few days, ever since her blow up at Giles. Angel and Kennedy tried to get past the silence, but she insisted she was just tired; that she'd been busy getting ready for the fight. She'd told them that today was the day. That it was exactly this day. How she knew, she didn't really know. It was just a feeling. Everybody else accepted it calmly, knowing better than to push the Slayer's buttons when she was in such a mood. Her reputation receded her. Her nightmares had gotten worse, had been digging deeper and deeper into her past, into her wounds. She hated it, but somehow she managed to survive past the night. She didn't enjoy going to sleep at all, but she knew she had to, in order to keep up her strength. It kept her in the down low that she was at, and nothing seemed to break through her. Not even Anya's revival.

* * *

Willow and Faith stared at the unconscious ex-demon before them.

"So I'm guessing the spell worked, right?"

Willow nodded.

"I'm pretty sure, yes."

Faith grinned widely, for the first time in the last day or so, and lifted her hand for a high five. Willow complied, and winced. At the loud noise, Anya snorted and awoke. Blinking a few times, she gazed about her, looking rather confused.

"Where am I?"

"Back in action, that's where you are." Faith helped her up, holding her steady before she could fall.

"Not with this dizziness, I'm not."

"Oh, that'll pass after a couple minutes and maybe if you just take a couple glasses of water it'll pass even faster. Or maybe not, but I'm sure you're thirsty anyways, and water's good for the body, yes it is and it's pure and clean and nice and-"

"Yada yada, sugar and spice. Enough with the babbling, Red, and get her the water."

Willow flushed and rushed out the door to the kitchen.

"Yes, thank you for stopping her. I thought my head would fall off."

"And have us do that spell again? I don't think so."

Anya tilted her head and stared at Faith. Faith stared right back.

"I'm alive."

"Yea, you are."

"How in the world did that happen?"

"Magic. Literally."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Yea."

Willow dashed back into the room with a cup of water, handing it to Anya with a hint of bravado.

"Your water."

The newly revived girl took it and chugged it down in one gulp before handing it back to the redhead.

"I thought you didn't like me."

Blushing, Willow fumbled with the glass. Faith came to the rescue.

"Bullshit, An. Red was happy to bring you back. Anything to get Xander back up on his feet."

"Aha! I knew it! Both of you still have feelings for him!"

Faith groaned.

"For Christ sake, Anya. We don't want him like that. We're his friends, and we're allowed to be concerned for his well-being." She lifted her eyebrows up.

"Besides, Red's still with Ken and I've been getting down and dirty with Buffy. We don't have any room for Xander." She winked. Anya's mouth opened in shock.

"Buffy?!"

"Yea, I know. She's got a thing for bad guys gone good."

Anya recovered swiftly. She had a tendency for it.

"Well, at least your heart's still beating."

"I'd be pretty unhappy if it wasn't."

"We'd all be, Faith." Willow said softly.

Undoubtedly, she was worried for Faith just as much as the rest of the gang. This plan of hers was borderline reckless, and very much dangerous. Who wouldn't be afraid for her?

Faith glanced at her briefly, but said nothing.

"When do I get to see him?"

"Red's got them all gathered. I think now's a good time as any, yea?"

They all nodded, and walked towards the lobby.

* * *

The reaction was nothing less than phenomenal.

The newbies squeaked, Dawn shrieked, Giles beamed, and Andrew almost passed out. Anya received their tearful greetings gratefully, but her eyes were on Xander.

He'd paled visibly, and his legs had shaken so much he had to sit himself down onto a chair. Tears began to fall unchecked from his good eye, and he couldn't find any words to fill the emptiness in his mouth.

She walked right up to him, and stood there for a moment.

"Xander?"

Silence.

"Is it really you?"

A look of annoyance flitted across her face before she crossed her arms with a scoff.

"Here I am, the love of your life, standing in front of you as real as that silly little patch over your bad eye, and you're asking me if it's really me?"

"I..."

"Of course it's her, Xander! Who else would it be, her twin sister?" Dawn said excitedly. Anya stared at her in confusion.

"Dawn, I don't **have** a twin sister."

Xander then laughed so hard through his tears, he nearly choked on his spit. It **was** Anya, his honey bunny was back, and he pulled her towards him with such force she landed on top of his lap. He didn't care. He was busy squeezing the life out of her.

"It's you...it's you...you're back..." He was crying, laughing, and everything in between.

"Well thank Willow and Faith. They're the ones who brought me back."

Everyone turned to look at the two, standing further away, silently basking in the joy of their accomplishment. Willow smiled before nodding towards Faith.

"Don't thank me. It was Faith's idea."

There were no words to describe the way Xander looked at her then.

His eyes were full of thanks and joy and all the good things in the world that meant love and happiness. Something inside Faith sparked and came alive, and the squeeze of Buffy's hand on hers completed it. Everyone gave her similar looks. They all had a new respect for her, seeing a side of her that brought life, instead of ending it. A part of her that revealed her hidden compassion, though they knew inside it had to have existed anyways. Now they could see it, they saw the evidence of it right there in front of them. Faith, through all the problems she was dealing with right then, had taken the time to fulfill the needs of one of her companions, because he needed love just as much as any of them did.

Buffy kissed her on the cheek.

"You did a good thing, Faith. I'm so proud of you."

Faith smiled, ever so softly.

* * *

She was happy, sure. It wasn't everyday she was anybody's hero. And that's what she was to Xander. She no longer had to doubt his loyalty again. He made sure she knew that she had his vote, eternally. Anya as well, made it rather clear that Faith was completely forgiven for taking Xander's virginity and that she was now Anya's best of friends. Faith gladly accepted the position.

But of course, being Anya, she had to make sure that nobody else would claim the spot, so she ran around, clearing it with everybody in the whole building that she - and she alone - held the title of Faith's bestest friend. She broke the news to Buffy one night while she and Faith were busy with the making out in Buffy's room. Anya just strolled in casually, ignoring the fact that they fumbled around in the sheets, trying to cover themselves up and spoke directly to Buffy.

"Buffy, I know you're Faith's orgasm buddy, but just so you know, you can't be her best friend."

"Wh-what?!"

"**I'm** her best friend now, so all you're allowed to be now is her sex friend."

"Okay. I'll keep that in mind, Anya, thank you." Buffy couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her voice. As it had been before, it was completely lost on Anya.

"I'm glad we could come to an agreement. Alright, I need to go let Kennedy and Angel know, too. Goodnight."

Anya left hurriedly in search of the two top champions of Faith's friendship. Faith made a nervous face as Buffy giggled.

"If I know Kennedy, she won't let that go easy."

"Well if a fight breaks out, at least Ken doesn't have her Slayer powers. That could cause a lot of problems."

"You're the cause of a lot of problems, it seems."

Faith swatted her arm.

"Sure, blame me. I'm always the scapegoat."

"Well who else is there to blame?"

Grinning, Faith rolled over and pinned her down against the bed. Slowly but surely she began to grind her hips against Buffy, who unwillingly let out a moan.

"Gee, B. I'm really kind of horny right now. And I can tell you right now that it's not **my** fault." With that, she leaned down for a kiss.


	27. Chapter 27

**Danke for the reviews. All reviews are appreciated, with the exception of the rude, non-constructive ones. Thanks to my lovely readers, this story is still alive. And is slowly nearing the end...**

**REVIEW!**

Buffy had also tried to break through Faith's walls, but the only thing that occurred in result was sex.

Their conversations went a little further than anybody else's, but still, it just ended with sex. It was good, mind you, but Buffy knew it was an escape. Faith knew it was an escape. She used it to get away from the conversation. But Buffy tried, anyways.

"Faith?"

"Yea, B?"

It seemed casual. Just a normal conversation, but Buffy's mouth felt dry, and Faith's body tensed.

"We've been looking into nightmares, as part of our research."

"Yea?"

"And there's a lot of good information."

"..."

"But maybe if you just told us in more detail what they were like..."

"No."

"Faith, we're all worried about you. **I'm** worried about you."

"They're nothing, B."

Buffy riled up. Nothing? **Nothing?!** How could she say that they were nothing?

"Nothing, Faith? I wake up in the middle of the night watching you cry, sweat, and scream in your sleep because of those nightmares and you're telling me they're nothing?!"

They scared her. Buffy never knew what to do. She couldn't wake her, she couldn't protect her, so all she could do was hold her against her, ignoring the fact that Faith was tossing and turning, making it impossible for her to keep her still.

"Tell me what's going on, Faith. Please, tell me." Buffy begged. Pleaded.

"I can hardly stand them in my sleep, Buffy. Don't ask me to think about them while I'm awake, too." Faith couldn't keep the desperation from her voice.

"You think about them anyways. Why won't you let us help you?"

"You guys should be working on researching the Master what's-his-face. Not worrying about me and my stupid little dreams."

"We have been. But your nightmares might be connected to whatever he's planning."

"We already know what he's planning. Vampire army, taking your powers. He's just trying to get rid of the Slayer line, like the First was. Except he's not the First. He's some bobo, fake-ass wannabe with magic tricks up his sleeve. Red will have you all up on your feet by the time I'm out there, and it'll all be good. You'll be head Slayer again and we'll have squashed another apocalypse thing. Easy."

They lay still for a little bit, Buffy solemn, Faith tense.

"Why won't you tell us? Why won't you let us in? Haven't we shown you enough that you **do** matter to us?"

Beyond the disguise of words, Faith could hear Buffy's true meaning.

_Why won't you tell __**me**__? Why won't you let __**me**__ in? Haven't __**I**__ shown you enough that you __**do**__ matter to __**me**__?_

"It's not that simple, B."

"So explain it to me, then.You said yourself, they're just nightmares. Why-"

"Do you know the reason why they're nightmares? Because I get to relive every single mistake I've made in the past that I'll regret for the rest of my life, and knowing that I could never change them! I get to watch myself do things to people that I can't ever take back, and I can feel myself caving back into those shoes again! Every single memory that I've kept locked up tight, all of them are fucking haunting me every second I'm asleep, and you're asking me to explain it all to you? I can't do that, Buffy, no matter how many times you ask me; I can't do it."

Faith began to shake, all the tension breaking her down all over again.

It seemed like she couldn't hold herself together like she used to. She couldn't stop the tears as easily as she could before, she couldn't stop the feelings from hurting her. She kept her cool as best as she could, but it was harder, took more effort. Everything seemed to take more effort. Even eating lost its effect over her normally three-track mind. Only two things really mattered, and that was Slaying and sleeping with Buffy. It wasn't so much sleeping with Buffy as much as it was loving her and being loved in return. Everyone knew about it, Angel was jealous, Kennedy grumbled, just about everyone else completely and utterly **not** surprised.

"You two were bound to kill each other or love each other. I'm just glad it was the second choice." Dawn said jokingly.

And indeed, the two loved each other very much. So much that it hurt sometimes. Like then, when Faith began to shake. When she could only think about reliving the past, when she could see Buffy's face in the old days; angry, betrayed, hateful, disgusted. When she saw the faces of the two men she killed, one in accident, the other intentionally. And even further back, when she took her first swig of the vodka bottle, or the first drag of the crisp and clean new Camel Original blend. The bittersweet look on her mother's face - when she used to be sober - whenever some stranger told them how much she looked like her mother. The faces of thousands of men, each of them pulling at the hem of her skirt, or slapping her across the face, the smell of whiskey strong on their unshaved faces. The names they called her, none of them relating to her real name. The look that her teachers and her peers had given her at school - when she went to school - as she passed in the hallways saying: look at her, she'll never be anything in this world. Another face, another failure. She hated pity. So she left. Sometimes she wondered if that was one of the things she regretted the most.

Buffy reached over and held her as she cried and shushed her softly.

"Shhh. Faith, shh...I'm so sorry...I'm sorry..."

They leaned against the headboard, crying together, rocking together, comforting each other. Of course, as expected, in a couple of hours they were alright. Sitting in a much more comfortable silence, before the conversation started again.

"We're worried about you. **I'm** worried about you."

"No need to worry, B. I'm not going anywhere."

"You're going up against an army of vampires, that's where you're going. And by choice. We have a definite right to be worried."

"Yea, but you all will be with me later."

"Who knows how long that'll take? You could be hurt, even killed."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take."

Buffy grimaced when she heard her own words used against her. But she knew Faith was right.

"Well, I don't like it."

"I'll let them all know. I'm sure they'll reconsider the whole apocalypse thing once they find out Buffy Summers doesn't like the idea." Faith teased.

"Oh shut up."

"No."

"Faith, you drive me crazy sometimes."

Faith was about to make another smart comment when she felt it. That distant rumbling and feeling of dread that rose inside of her;

**They were coming.**

She pushed herself up and out of the bed, reading the clock at her side.

5:54 am.

Tonight. They were going to attack tonight.

"Faith, what's wrong?"

She turned to look at Buffy, eyes wild and fearful.

"They're coming."

Buffy asked no questions and got up as well. They quickly dressed and started up a ruckus, knocking at every door they passed, yelling,

"Meeting in the lobby, **now**!"

As the semi-large group of men, women, and other creatures trickled in, Faith fidgeted nervously.

_**They were coming.**_


	28. Chapter 28

**Sorry it took so long, school's a bitch. Danke for the reviews, please review some more, and here we goooo**

Faith's POV

"It's time."

I tell myself, repeating Kennedy's words.

We spent the whole day rechecking our building, our weapons, our plan, our everything. And now it's time. Time for me to run out there alone, face an unknown amount of vampires, diminish their ranks, break their resolve. Not quite alone; I'll have a good bunch of arrows helping me out, but you get what I mean. Sometimes you just need somebody there with you when you face an evil that big. But right now, only I was capable of doing it.

Not Buffy, not Angel, not Willow. Not anybody else but me. I was the only one.

I kind of revel in that feeling of being the lone hero for once, but at the same time, I wonder if I'll fuck it all up again.

I shake my head of the thought. I won't let it happen.

We had a meeting this morning, I instructed groups of people to a certain job, and after it was over, we all carried it out with a sense of grim foreboding. Xander went around checking that reinforcements were stable. Anya managed the supplies and ammo. Willow, Fred, and Kennedy were preparing for the big old spell. It was gonna be difficult, Kennedy had told me. It was harder than the one used against the First, because that was a trigger Spell. They all had the power and it was just being released. Now, she had to pull it all back in to a bus full amount of girls. Rona and Vi were handing out weapons. Andrew was taking the archers up to the proper places in the top story, and making sure any hatches that would allow anybody outside in were being sealed shut. Buffy and the Angel Investigations team were working out the details of how to fight the weakened army. Giles and I discussed all weaknesses, all advantages that I should take, and what my signal will be. We even set up night-vision cameras so that they could monitor my progress and determine when to jump in.

"Cool. I've always wanted to be a TV star." I muttered.

Now it was all set. Now it was all ready. Now it was time to go.

Ready?

No.

Set?

No.

Go!

No.

But I moved anyways. Out the room, across the hall, down the stairs, towards the main doors.

They were out there, they were waiting. For me.

Everybody stood behind me as I rested a hand against the door. I turned to smile. To grin my trademark grin, to let them know that I could do this.

"Well it's all or nothing, guys. Let's make sure it's all."

"Faith." Giles starts. I look at him.

"Are you sure about this?"

Of course I'm not.

"Of course I'm sure, Giles! You know we can't back out on the plan now. We don't even **have** a Plan B."

He nods weakly, concern evident in his eyes. I appreciate it, but I wasn't just spitting words. We really needed to follow through with this.

"Maybe I should go with you. Or at least somebody else should-"

I interrupt her before she can say anything else.

"Listen. This isn't about being together. Not right now. This is about keeping you safe. All of you. So until I manage to beat their asses into sorry shapes, none of you are allowed to rush out there with me. Angel and co. will stop you if you try." I look all of them in the eye, but I let them linger on Buffy.

"Got it, B?"

She bites her lip, but nods. My grin had faded into a grim set of lips, but I let a small smile on now.

On before I turn, push the doors open and step outside, letting the doors click and lock behind me.

I could see them all, hiding in dark, in the shadows. But there are no trees or foliage to cover their asses here. They know they'll have to come out sooner or later.

* * *

As I wait, I reflect. On the last few months. Christ, it's only been about two full ones, and the world's been flipped upside down, inside out and back up and in again. I don't think I've ever been so fucking bombarded in my life. Mom, dad, school, Sunnydale, the Mayor, Angel, even jail; all of it happened over time. I could see it coming. Most of them, at least. Now here I am, out of jail, Buffy (figuratively) by my side, friends with the Scoobs, and finally being able to be a hero. A hero worthy of being talked of. Not some stupid piece of scum on the side of the road, or in a correctional facility. I'm in the open, playing the game of life on the good side. And for once, I'm really the leader. Sure, with the First I was voted leader, but nobody doubted that Buffy was the true Captain of the Slayer team. Now, I'm the only Slayer.

It's like I've been Chosen. Not a back-up, not a second-rate, piss poor excuse. No. I've been picked for this. I'm the one they want. I can feel it. But God be damned if they get me, or Buffy, or Angel, or any of these people. I won't let them. We won't let them.

Maybe this is my salvation. This is a sign. It must be. It's gotta be. I did my time, I fought the good fight, I found love, I found acceptance, now **I'm** the one playing lone ranger. But not because I think I'm better than anyone. I'm doing it because I want to protect. I want to help. I want to be good.

That makes all the difference in the world, doesn't it? I think so.

In all of this I've learned to be someone I could be proud of. Sometimes I think maybe I was this person all my life, I just kept covering it up piece by piece, with every single person I've met. I heard once that a child is like a blank piece of paper, and every person to come by leaves a mark. I think of all the people who'd left their marks, and all I remember are the bad ones. The good ones must've used pencil, cause anything good in my life had been covered up and erased by all the black, ugly marks made by the people I don't care to remember. I'm not trying to get anyone down and depressed, least of all myself, but that's how it was. Not anymore. I'm cleaning my slate, and everything's starting to brighten up. The "enemies" turned out to be my friends, and my "friends" turned out to be the enemies. Parts of me hurt because of that. Every single turn I'm being lied to, but I guess that's the price you have to pay when you make the wrong choices.

And I'm hoping I made the right one this time.

Even still, I think about the Mayor. I wonder sometimes if he was lying to me the whole time, but somehow I don't think so. I see lies. I know them. I've grown up around them, beside them, inside them, outside them, with them. My life is a fucking lie. But with him I saw something else. He still had something human in him, and he was the only one then to see something human in me. I think I loved him for it. But he made the wrong choices, just like I made the wrong choices, even if he was more sure of it than I was. Sometimes I think he chose me to be selfish. Even if I went over there. I could've killed him. I could've played double agent **for** the Scoobs instead of him, but I didn't. I guess every bad guy has a problem with making right decisions.

As I stand here, I feel like he wouldn't be disappointed in me. Maybe in the people I befriend, but he'd still be proud of me. He hates them. But he loves me, and I suppose that's all that matters right now. I might be on the side that he never was on, but somehow I really don't think he'd be upset. I just hope he sees that I'm finally doing something good. For a change. RIP, Boss. Mayor Wilkins. Dad. Whatever. He's all I had, but now I have these people. I'll never forget him, I don't regret knowing the guy at all. He was the beginning of the spark that kept burning. I just kept trying to bury it under all my regrets, all my anger, all my guilt and shame; everything I could muster up. But there's someone who finally saw me. Who finally let us be free.

Buffy.

God what I wouldn't do for the girl. We went through shit. Lots of shit, that nobody else could really get. But somehow we ended up together. I half expected the earth to open up and suck us both in for the blasphemy. The world is just full of twists and turns. I never saw it coming, and neither did she. For all the years that I've known her, I waited for **her** to make the move. I couldn't do it, even if I was the extraverted sleaze back in the old years. Cause she caught me off guard. Here was Blondie, tiny, cute, fucking adorable and still able to kick my ass. Not that I've ever admitted it, but I never had much of a doubt. I mean, sure, I always did the stupid thing and jumped into battle with her just to seem confident. But I knew. I'm starting to think I used to do it just to get my ass kicked and thrown around. I guess I thought that's the only way I could serve my punishment. Nobody else could stop me without weapons. Only Buffy. Only she could stop me. She tried to, but damn if I don't have a stubborn head. So she let me go. And I kept walking until I was at the devil's door and signing contract with my blood.

Now I'm here, and I've completely cleansed my blood, so that contract doesn't mean shit to me now. And after this, things will be calmer, better off. This battle brought us together, gave us companionship, gave us love, gave us a bonding together that couldn't have been done if we weren't all locked in the same fucking building for weeks. We know each other now. Emotionally and physically, we know each other. And as a note, she makes this really cute whimpering noise when I kiss this one spot below her ear on the neck. Know what I'm talking about? If you don't, try it. It's like a fucking magical spot. It's the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. And with Buffy's clothes, I'd say a rainbow is basically what she is. I've dug through that closet. I don't recall ever seeing that many different shades of pastel in my life. I told her she should try out for a fucking circus after her Slayer gig is officially over.

Sometimes I wonder if it'll ever be over. I guess it's gonna be hard. For me, it's what I'm meant to do. Built to do. That's all I'm fucking good for, it feels like. I mean, Buffy and Giles and Angel, etc, tell me I can do whatever I want. That I'm talented and full of good qualities that can be harnessed to do other things besides Slay.

"Are you shitting me?" I'd exclaimed. Loudly.

It's what I do. It's what I'm good at. It's what I love. I don't see a reason as to why I should be something else when I found my calling. I guess they're just so used to Buffy and her constant need to be 'normal'. Whatever **that** is.

I don't know what we're gonna do. But wherever she goes, I go. After all this bullshit is over...

Oh. I guess I better wrap this up. I can daydream all I want, but for right now, the vamps are starting to show their ugly mugs, and I've got ass to kick.


	29. Chapter 29

**Sorry I'm taking so long, so much work to do before the year ends! Enjoy and review!**

"I'm kinda insulted." I say as I swiftly stake the first vamp to lunge at me.

"I mean, you lot are having some major party, and-" I take the head off the next one with two slices of my daggers.

"-I wasn't invited? What kind of-" Front kick, sidestep, jab.

"-**bullshit** is that?" Step, elbow in the jaw, dodge claws, break fangs, stake.

"Slayer." The voice resonates, and all vampires back away, letting the rather familiar tall thin man walk towards me, sword in hand.

"Hey string bean, you hosting this fiesta?" I dramatically look around, appearing bored.

"No offense, but it seems a little dead to me."

A slight grin appears on his face.

"Your humor is not lost on me, Slayer. In fact, it is one of the reasons that balanced in your favor when choosing the source."

"I'm glad I could help. A lot of people tell me I got it from the Boss, but I've had a sense of humor long before I knew him."

"Yes, perhaps you inherited it from the father you never knew?"

I can't help but make that strangled sound at the base of my throat. I clear it with a cough, but I still can't say a thing.

**I'm starting to realize why that voice in my head sounded so familiar.**

"Don't smash yourself over the head for not realizing, **Faithy**. It takes many people centuries in their own waste to figure out what I am, and by then, they're too far gone to be saved."

I lunge with a cry, but he moves quickly out of the way.

"You're a fast little fucker, aren't you?" I mutter as we circle each other.

"Hardly as fast as you are strong, my pet." He coos at me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand.

I growl and shoot towards him again, but he shoves me back and I land on my ass with a grunt. He tilts his head and looks down at me.

"Come and catch me, if you can, Slayer."

And as soon as he says it, he disappears, and there are vamps coming at me from all sides. Somehow he'd led me right into the middle of the army.

_**Fuck.**_

I jump up, brandishing my twin daggers, blood rushing through my veins with power. As bad as it looks, I have a feeling this is gonna be the best fun I'll have in a while.

"Come on, you ugly fucks. Slayer's waiting for ya." I let out a whoop and fight.

* * *

Buffy's POV

She whirls around like a madwoman, daggers in hand and flashing in the moonlight.

My heart's pounding in my head, and fear grips me when I see the overwhelming amount of vampires crowding in on her. But at the same time, I can't help but laugh.

She looks like she's having the time of her life; she's laughing, eyes are flashing with excitement, and the moving of her mouth suggests that she's throwing witty little comments at them while she's beating their asses. God, that girl is a handful. She laughs at the face of danger, and gives death a firm handshake anytime she encounters it. She's crazy. I don't know how many times I've told her before, but she is.

* * *

"Faith, you're absolutely, positively, out-of-your-mind crazy."

She grinned and gave me a peck on the lips before taking another swig of her beer. Winking at Kennedy and Willow, she looked back at me.

"So how's it feel to be dating a psychopath, B?"

Setting herself into my lap, she wrapped one arm around my neck.

"Pretty uneventful, to be honest."

She pouted. This was one of her better nights. One of the nights when she wasn't stumbling over her own feet as if she couldn't see, or dazing off into space in her own brooding thoughts.

"Eh. Night's still young; you'll change your mind, soon enough." She said, her lips leaving a blazing trail of kisses on my neck. I moaned despite myself.

Xander blushed furiously, and Anya smacked him. Dawn rolled her eyes and the other girls giggled.

"You two make a great couple." One of the girls said, flushing. Faith grinned again.

"I'd like to meet the one who says we don't!"

Everyone laughed in agreement, forgetting for the moment the newest apocalypse we had on our hands.

* * *

I see her go down.

Then I see her get back up, struggling.

Under the wave of vampires that rushed at us, she rushed in first, telling the rest of us to stay back. We had to listen to her, she was adamant.

_"Listen. This isn't about being together. Not right now. This is about keeping you safe. All of you. So until I manage to beat their asses into sorry shapes, none of you are allowed to rush out there with me. Angel and Co. will stop you if you try." _

Firm and beautiful. And crazy. Before she stepped out, she turned to look at me. Excitement. Anticipation. And a hint of "don't-worry-I'll-be-fine". I swallow down the lump in my throat and nod. The corners of her lips lift into a smile. And she walked out, knowing the danger, refusing to share it until she was sure we wouldn't be hurt.

**I should never have let her go.**

I dash towards the door, but Angel grabs me and won't let me go. I damn the heavens for letting this happen. For rendering me defenseless. Useless. What's a Slayer without her powers?

"Angel! ANGEL! Please...please!" I cry out desperately. His grip tightens and I can sense him fighting his need to run out there, too. But he only holds me closer.

I need to be out there. I have to help her. She needs me.

"Let me go! Faith! I need to help her...please..." He can only give me those defeated eyes and shakes his head.

"I can't, Buffy. I promised her I wouldn't let anybody past these doors until she shows the signal. Especially you. And even when she does, you and the girls are the last resort. My group goes out next." I feel so useless. Without my strengths, without my power.

_Faith. Faith. Faith._

I start chanting her name in my head. It becomes a mantra for calming down.

He holds onto me, staring up at the monitors, searching, waiting for the signal. He wants to dash out there just as much as I do. I close my eyes, because when it comes to Faith, that's all I can ever do. Because I can't watch her hurt anymore. Not in person, not through those damn TV monitors.

Angel's grip is gone, and he's calling his team out the doors.

"Let's go."


	30. Chapter 30

**It's a quick one, just as a weekend bonus, since exams are this week and next week. I'll do my best to keep them coming. Enjoy and review!**

**Note: the whole father thing was just the Master eluding to Faith's past; it really isn't all that important except for the fact that Faith suddenly recognized the Master's voice...**

Kennedy's POV

"It's done! Go! Go!"

Everyone's running, dashing out, meeting headlong with the bloodsucking assholes who tried and failed to take our powers away. Here we stand, united, here we fight, united. Wherever we are, we're united. Somehow, in some way, we're bound together for life. I shove a stake into the first vampire I see, letting loose a battlecry that I had no idea existed. We fight in unison, we fight in rhythm. I guess this was what Faith was talking about when she training some of the girls, including myself. It was a couple weeks ago, maybe, and we were all sparring in the gym, and we still had my Slayer powers. She taught better than anybody ever had bothered to, one on one, treated us with a respect that we could never expect from Giles or Buffy, to whom we were just a couple of newbie Slayers. No. Faith **believed** in me. In all of us. Separately, in our own powers. In our own personalities. But the best advice she could ever give us had nothing to do with our skills. It had to do with our judgement.

* * *

"God-fucking-A! I suck!" I griped, rubbing my ass. I'd just had it handed to me by one of Faith's surprise moves, and currently I was far across the room.

"Nah. You just haven't enjoyed the powers long enough."

"You were our age and twice as good." I retorted.

She smirked.

"Yea, but I was the next 'Chosen', whatever the hell that means. Plus, girl like me makes typical bait for vampire types. Can't survive long if you don't hone your skills."

The girls sit down for a rest on the mat and start asking questions.

"How old were you, really, when you first received your powers?"

Faith scratched her head before shrugging.

"Can't say for sure, but maybe around 15 years old."

"What's the best advice you could give us?"

Something like sadness passed over her face, but it was gone as soon as I'd seen it.

"Admit your mistakes."

I understood what she was saying, but I knew the others didn't. They waited for her to continue.

"You're gonna fuck up, you're gonna take these powers and take it for a spin every night and one night it might get out of control. When it does, don't hide it. Don't run away from it. Man up to it, 'cause the only thing you'll ever do if you don't is regret it for the rest of your life." She gazed over us with a quiet pride, and we all looked up at her with silent reverence.

Teacher.

Students.

"And no matter what you do, whatever crime you commit...just know that I won't judge. I can't judge. But you can come to me, and I can help you as best as I can."

Pause.

"Got it, you namby-pamby, spastic little brats?" Her voice toughened, and she blushed as if she was embarrassed by her extremely short speech of affection.

"Yes ma'am!" We saluted her in unison.

* * *

Damn. It's good to have our powers back.

I hear a familiar whooping laugh that embodies Faith, and I feel my heart bursting with joy along with it. We're winning, and everybody knows it. Even Andrew's in on the battle, brandishing a wooden staff-

Oh. Nevermind, that's a frying pan.

"Andrew, what the hell are you doing?" I yell at him as I stake a vamp that was sneaking up on him. Stupid boy, he's gonna get himself killed.

"I'm beating a vampire with my best frying pan, what does it look like I'm doing?!" He shouts back, uncharacteristically. I guess he lets his balls drop whenever he's in battle and wielding his forever handy...frying pan.

"Whatever floats your boat, Andy. But just try not to get yourself killed. Faith's gonna be pissed."

"Speaking of Faith, where is she?"

What a fucking good question. Where **is** Faith? I heard her five seconds ago.

I scan amongst the heads, searching for her. While I do, I reflect with amazement at our progress.

This battle is raging on, but everybody's doing so well. I can't believe how far we've gotten. Only a few months ago we were just Potentials. And now we're Slayers. Warriors. Built to destroy evil and bring about goodness in the world. A bit cliche, but it's what we do. Some of the girls hate it, but I love it. I love the wind in my hair, the feel of a sword in the enemy's gut, the surge of power I get when a fucking vamp runs into my stake. It's all amazing. But look at all of us, together.

Rona's improved that right block, left uppercut move with a stake. Dawn's brilliant with a broadsword. Giles' old style English boxing is doing the trick. Vi's gotten the hang of her spin butterfly kick. Andrew and his frying pan aren't dead yet. Xander's doing well leading the archers. Amanda's a goddess with her short sword. Willow's a goddess in bed (and with magic). Buffy...as much as I hate to admit it, is just about as perfect in fighting as Faith says she is. And Faith and her twin daggers are kicking Master ass; what with that hook kick, that dodging, the slashing, the final thrust of the blade, the unguarded-

"Faith!"


	31. Chapter 31

**Thanks for the reviews, things are slowly coming to a halt. Just remember, things aren't always as obvious as they seem. Or maybe they are. Who knows? Enjoy and review, and the next update will be sooner!**

Faith's POV

I killed him.

But I guess I should've been more careful. He pulls a final spinning axe kick that goes awry and lands on the back of my neck.

I think I hear a snap.

I go down.

* * *

Buffy's POV

Can a voice scream and not make a sound?

My mouth is open but it makes no sound.

I run.

I reach her side and I hold her, ignoring everything around me, the blood, the cries, the death. I see Faith and only Faith. I must be crying; she reaches up to touch my face and when her hand falls back, they're wet.

"Hey, B." She smiles and she opens her eyes. They wander aimlessly for a moment, and she blinks repeatedly before matching my gaze. They're misted over, with tears, I thought. She closes them again lets them fall.

"I always know it's you, B. By your smell. And your soft skin..." There's a tremor in her voice that I can't place, and when she opens her eyes once more, I know.

_She's blind._

"No..." I gasp.

Tears again gather in my eyes as I hold her even tighter, wanting to see recognition in those eyes. But nothing. There was a glaze over them and I know that they are dead. I want to scream. What sort of God would let those beautiful eyes go blind?

"It's alright, baby. I'm alright." She's hurting, she's wounded, she's fucking blind...and here she is comforting me. She's kissing my hands with her perfect lips, her eyes still peering aimlessly. I cry harder, I can't take it anymore.

"Your eyes. Your beautiful eyes..." I whisper hoarsely.

My fingers wipe the tears from her face and I kiss her eyelids, feeling the lashes tickle my lips. I kiss them over and over again. When I finish, she's smiling up at me, as if she can still see, but one glance tells me otherwise. Her hand searches my face, traces the lines and crevices and rests on my cheek.

"I just wish..." Her voice cracks, but she swallows it down and continues bravely.

"I just wish I could see your face again, B."

"You will, Faith. You will, I promise."

She shakes her head.

"Don't do this now, Buffy. I can't stand hearing you lie to me when you know there's no hope...Don't give me false hope." Her hand squeezes mine tightly.

"No, no, Faith, I'm not. We can fix this...Willow-"

"Buffy, please..."

I hold my tongue and bite my bottom lip until it bleeds. There must be something. There **has** to be something. Anything.

"Are we winning, B?"

I look around me, as if for the first time, and I realize she noticed the silence before I did. There we all were, standing, sitting, lying, crouching, but **alive** in the streetlights that were jarred by dust particles floating in the air.

"We did it. We won." Giles breaks the silence, a gash on his brow but a smile on his lips as relief pours over all of us. There's a loud cheer from the ranks and everybody is crying, laughing...

Celebrating.

Faith laughs with a joy that fills me, and she looks so content. She lets out a whoop and grunts to get up. I help her up, and she pulls me into a bear hug, and I return it with the same force she's applying. It's over. It's all over. She kisses me forcefully on the lips and I comply willingly. It's a piece of heaven that I get to keep. It fills me with hope. I know that Willow can fix her sights. I know it.

"Buffy!"

Speaking of Willow, I hear her happy shrieking. Faith nods at me to go, telling me,

"I can feel around alright, B. Go."

I don't want to leave her, but she pushes me away. I run into Willow's arms, as we rejoice. Her face is bruised but her babbling never ceases. To me, the world is at peace again; even if only for the moment. I wander around, making sure that the surviving members are alright.

They are.

We gather together, all of us, and we speak a few words on behalf of our dead friends, heroes.

"We shall never forget this day, and the friends we have lost to this battle..." Giles continues. And we cry openly.

Except I don't. My tears stop the second I stand in this circle.

I know the expression on my face; it's the one that says I'm too hardened to cry, but I'm not cold enough to be unaffected by this. I am hurting like I always do. With this guilt that keeps me angry at myself, for letting this happen.

I should have helped them. They shouldn't be dead.

_Buffy..._

I should've been there, by their sides. I could've stopped this.

_It'll be fine...you did alright..._

I would be free of this guilty mind, free of the burden of young deaths.

_You were strong...beautiful..._

I feel it's my fault again, that these people are no longer with us.

_I love you, B..._

I hear a noise behind me and some turn. I don't. I'm still mourning, still grieving. No distractions...

"Buffy!" Willow's gasp wakes me. Her eyes are wide and full of shock at something behind me. I turn.

And there she is, hand clutching at her waist, arm searching for something...anything...

She crumples onto the road.

* * *

Faith's POV

I'm fucking dying.

I know it. I can feel it, and it's a hell of a lot different than I thought it would be.

"Faith!" I hear someone calling my name, and I also hear the pitter-patter of shoes on the gravel just to get to me. I almost smile. They really did care about me.

"Oh my goddess. We have to get her inside, hurry!" That's my Red.

Instructing what to do and what not to do. How to carry me without making me hurt too much. It's sweet. Not that it matters. I can't feel a fucking thing; everything's gone numb.

"Don't you die, Faith. Don't you fucking die..." Kennedy's voice is right beside me, as I'm being rushed off into the coolness of the building.

Where have I heard that before?

They set me down lightly on a familiar cot. Different situation this time. Different setting, different reason, different feelings.

**This time, I don't want to die.**

But it's too late. I know my fate, and I guess I better accept it.

Just as I had to when darkness took over.

* * *

I remember being hit in the head, I remember falling like a stone to the ground. I remember Buffy. I knew it was her, I could feel her emotionally as much as I could physically. I could feel the force of that Slayer powers brimming to the edge, and the connection that automatically meant Buffy. She was holding me, and I could feel her fear. I forced myself from unconsciousness. I wanted to see her so much. I opened my eyes.

Nothing.

It was the same as when I closed them. I blinked a couple times, hoping that maybe I was just needing to adapt my vision. That I was just having one of those moments again.

Nothing.

And I knew that any surface damage due to that kick to my head was nothing compared to how I felt then.

**I felt so cheated.**

I could take pain, and I could take betrayal just as well as any other person can. But this? It was too much.

No more sunsets or sunrises. No more beaches or picnics at beautiful places. No more city lights and no more dancing. No more strolling down the streets without a care in the world. No more seeing the faces of my friends, my only family.

_**No more Buffy.**_

I panicked. Internally. I couldn't risk hurting Buffy anymore. But she finds these things out. Observant, my B is.

_She's blind._

I could hear her mind screaming. Ringing with that thought. I tried to soothe her. She needed me.

I thought it couldn't get any worse than that.

Remind me never to think that again.

And if these were different circumstances, I would ask someone to remind me.

But I know a chance for that reminder will never happen again.


	32. Chapter 32

**Danke for the reviews. Enjoy and review some more, out of loveee...**

"Faith? Hey, I need you to look at me. Come on, wake up..."

I'm still hearing panic, but I stay calm. I feel them all near me, and I wonder if I should open my eyes. I hear Angel repeat himself. This time I just do as he asks.

Still nothing. I get a pang of that cheated feeling again. My eyes roll blindly.

Literally.

Gasps and choking sobs are what I get in return.

"Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god..." Buffy. She's crying the words out and I imagine she's got her face in her hands now. I can feel her pain, her remorse. I know it kills her, but what can I do?

What can I do?

"B...B...I'm sorry. What can I do? Is there anything...?" My voice is hoarse, it's breaking, and I'm reaching in the dark for her body. I'm patting at people's arms, faces, searching...

It scaring the shit out of me. I can't seem to recognize who is who.

"I-I don't know..." My voice goes up at the end of the phrase, and even I can pick out the evident panic in my words. It must be on my face, too, because I feel someone rushing to hold me close. Buffy.

**My Buffy.**

"It's okay...it's okay...I'm here..." She's murmuring into my hair, and I can't help but cry. At least blindness doesn't mean defective tear ducts.

I want to claw my eyes out, I want to scream. The fear that I had swallowed down earlier returns with full blast, and I just realize the full extent of my situation.

_I can't see. I can't fucking see!_

"My eyes...my eyes...!" I fulfill the need to scream, and I grab at my useless eyes, attack my own face. I feel my nails break the flesh, and the new wetness on my skin is more than tears.

But who fucking cares? **I** can't see the blood. I can't see a fucking thing.

"No! Faith! No!" They grab at me, holding me down as I sob with the loss of my sight. I jerk my body around, I need to escape, but all the hands force me to stay still. They grasp onto me as I continue to bawl, my body shaking violently.

I can't take it anymore.

"I can't see...I can't see anything...! It's so dark...Buffy...I don't know...!"

_It's so goddamn dark in here. In this world of nothingness._

I cry and cry and cry until soon my body tires and I'm falling into a deep slumber.

* * *

Narrative

They all saw her eyes. But they didn't realize anything until those eyes roamed aimlessly. That glazed look...the never-ending mist...

_She's blind._

It hit them all hard, and it was almost too much to bear on their shoulders.

Angel clutched the edge of the bed until his knuckles were paler than they usually were. His own eyes were clenched shut, as though he was trying to remove his mind of the vision.

Willow and several other girls gasped at the realization. The shock didn't hide the guilt in their tearing eyes.

Xander couldn't hold back a choked cry. He had to hold onto Anya (who was also crying) to keep from falling down. How did this happen?

Kennedy did everything in her power not to vomit at that point. It was too much. Faith, her best of friends, her guardian, her guidance...there she was, blind and looking so helpless. She couldn't stand it. This was Faith. Faith, who had protected them with her life. Faith, who refused to risk anybody but herself. Faith, who had been so patient, so kind...The only thing keeping her from being sick was the sight of Buffy.

Everyone had glanced at her, wondering what they could do, hoping that she didn't fall apart for they would not know how to deal with it. Her hands had shot up to her face, and she was shaking with her sobs.

"Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god..."

"B...B...I'm sorry. What can I do? Is there anything...?" Buffy wanted to tear out of the room and never return.

Nobody could believe it. Here the girl lay, blind and near death, and she continued to ask what she could do. Guilt piled upon sorrow. To think that they had ever doubted her goodness all those years...

Willow began to cry as well, and things only got worse.

Her hands were up, searching, and patting at the people nearby. Panic etched the wrinkles on her face caused by her furrowed brows. She didn't know who was who.

"I-I don't know..."

They all heard her voice crack. They all heard the fear. The sudden rush of shock. And Buffy pushed her way past everybody to Faith's side. To hold her, to calm her. She shushed her softly, and murmured into her hair, attempting to relieve her of her pain. Faith cried. It seemed it would stay that way for hours.

**Then it happened.**

A force that seemed mental more than physical broke through all of them, and they could hear the Rogue Slayer's voice clear in their minds.

_I can't see. I can't fucking see!_

Then her actual voice.

"My eyes...my eyes...!" It reached a scream and she'd continued to scream, when her hands flew up to her face, scratching at her own blinded eyes, as if trying to gauge them out of the sockets. Blood seeped into the white with the tears as her short nails managed to tear the flesh. The color of blood shocked them into action.

"No! Faith! No!" Kennedy shouted, and they worked to hold her down.

There was a desperation in her husky sobs that couldn't be avoided. Her body shook, but it was one weakened Slayer against the twenty odd pairs of hands that held onto her, keeping her from destroying herself again.

"I can't see...I can't see anything...! It's so dark...Buffy...I don't know...!" She continued to cry, and many had already joined her.

_It's so goddamn dark in here. In this world of nothingness._

They heard it again, softer, muted, but still there.

They waited until her cries turned into whimpers and into deep slumber.

* * *

"She's stabilized. She'll be fine, but her eyesight can't be helped." Angel sighs, shaking his head.

"Actually, Angel..."

Everyone turned to look at Willow, who, along with Giles, had a book open.

"Because the eyes aren't physically damaged, we **can** return her sight. Xander, yours shall be a little more difficult, but that can be helped as well." Giles smiled in earnest.

The tension is relieved.

Kennedy gave Willow a bear hug, Anya beamed, Xander whooped, Angel revealed an uncharacteristic little grin, and Dawn gave Buffy's hand a squeeze. Buffy herself allowed a smile of relief and tear brimmed eyes.

The world will be back to normal again.

* * *

"Kovstoyevsky is dead, Master." A gremlin-like creature bowed down at the foot of the throne of skulls.

"Very well."

"Sire?"

A laugh resonated into the darkness, harsh and piercing. It reminded everyone of metal scraping metal, or a thousand different screams all at once.

"Kill two birds with one stone. Have you heard of the phrase, Kimje?" A hand, or something like it, reached down and pat the gremlin's face. He shivered at the touch of death.

"Indeed, my Lord."

The sound of a body shifting could be heard.

"So. Leo is dead. What of the girl?"

"Nearing full recovery as we speak, much faster than usual. The Sisterhood believes it will take only two Earth days." Kimje kept his head down respectfully.

"Mmm. Perfect timing."


	33. Chapter 33

**Review!**

Kennedy's POV

"Cut the shit and tell me when I'm gonna kick the bucket, Ken."

"Well that's the good news, you idiot. You're not kicking any buckets." I grin. Then I remember she can't see it.

I stop grinning.

"You're shitting me." Her voice is raspy, and I know it's hard for her to breathe. It hurts to listen.

"No, really. The doctors say you're stabilized, the check up on your healing shows your body's doing well, and Giles and Willow found a way to fix your eyes. Xander's, too."

She blinks for a moment, then starts laughing.

"Well God be damned. This whole time I thought I was dying." She keeps laughing. I follow along.

"So how's everyone else? The girls?" She asks, and I wonder how she can be so concerned about the others when she's lying here. She looks like shit; pale and unlike Faith. And her eyes, God, they're so blank and it kills me. It kills everyone. I don't know how Buffy can stand it. I can hardly stomach my food.

"They're doing well. It was a tough fight, but they'll be out of the beds before you are."

"And the Scoobs?"

"Nobody's really hurt, a few cuts and bruises, but nothing big."

"What about B? I feel like I haven't seen her in a long time."

"It's only been like 6 hours since we brought you in."

"Oh. I guess this is my first wake-up call, then?"

"Yea. Buffy's been in a couple times, and you just happened to wake up when I got here."

She grins.

"How unfortunate for you."

"Yea, that's what I'm saying." I can't help but chuckle in return.

She sighs a little, and says nothing.

_Still hear me, Ken?_

I jump at the sound. It wasn't something I heard, it was something that rang in my head, and the voice was all Faith. I stare at her incredulously.

"Damn." She murmurs, shaking her head slowly.

"I still got it." She doesn't sound all that happy.

My mouth is open, and I just don't know what to say. What do you say? I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. It happened last night, and weird shit like this happens all the time. Mind reading, magic, vampires, etc. Things I never knew about until Slayerdom. But somehow it bothers me. It bothers me that she can do this. That she can still do the telepathic mind speaking. What does it mean? I hope nothing. None of us really understand what it is, we've done research and whatnot...but wasn't all of this mind mess supposed to be over once the 'Master' was killed? That's usually how it goes, isn't it?

"It's probably nothing, Ken. No need to panic." She brushes it off, like she always does when something bothers her.

I let it go.

"Right. Well, I'll talk to Giles about it anyways. Just as a check up or something."

"Alright. Hey, I'm gonna catch some sleep; this mortally injured thing doesn't work so much for me." She says with a laugh, lifting her hand up for a high five.

I comply, gently. I don't want to break her hand, she'd probably kick my ass once she recovers fully. Which should take about a week.

Thank goodness for Slayer Healing.

* * *

Buffy POV

"So how's our favorite girl?" Xander asks me with a smile. Everyone looks to me with hope. I'm pleased to give them good news.

"She's doing well. Recovering super fast, and it's only been a day." I have to admit, I was surprised, too. Slayer healing is a Godsend, but it's never worked **that** fast. We're powerful, not invincible. Not that I'm complaining. I'll be glad to have her back.

"Well, I suppose her enthusiasm assists in the healing process. We're all very glad to hear it, thank you, Buffy." Giles nods.

"How is she...you know, emotionally?" Of course Angel would ask that. Always the protector. The guardian.

I'm not sure how to answer him. She seemed to be fine, kind of off, but I'm not sure if that's just because - oh I don't know - she's stuck in a hospital bed?

"I don't know, Angel. I just feel like she's feeling down because of everything."

"Losing an eye has that effect on people. Especially if it's both of them." Xander quips. And of course he's right. Her blindness really threw her off. I was devastated; think of how she must've felt.

"Well we could do the spell sometime tomorrow, we just need to move her someplace less crowded." Willow perks up. I smile at her gratefully; I know she's trying to make me feel better.

I haven't gotten any sleep, as much as I wanted to. I just couldn't, thinking about Faith and worrying that we'd lose her or something of the sort.

"Upstairs loft area? Then when her sight is back she'd have something beautiful to look at."

"I don't know, Xander. That loft is really messy, and I for one wouldn't quite call it beautiful-"

"I meant through the window, An. The view from the window."

"Oh. Well in that case, let's move her bed!"

Everyone was in agreement. Tomorrow morning, then, would be the day of full recovery.

* * *

She is still sleeping when we finish moving her bed. Her breathing is normal, and the monitor beeps at regular pulse rate, and there are no inconsistencies. I breathe a sigh of relief as I brush a lock of hair from her face. I realize with regret that no matter what, Faith always looks like she's in some sort of deep struggle when she's asleep. Even Angel looked more at peace when he slept. I wonder what she's dreaming about.

Scratch that.

I **fear** what she's dreaming about.

Even though the fight is over, and our powers are returned and everything's back to normal, I know that those nightmares stirred something inside of her. Memories triggering more memories, all of them horrible and all of them needed to be forgotten.

I want to help her forget them. At least mend them.

Help her heal the wounds she never got past, because it's all been digging so hard into her ribs she thought that's how it was meant to be. She thought she deserved it. Somehow it made sense to her that she's suffering so badly, because it's just another way to redemption.

I wanted to tell her that brooding and letting herself suffer wasn't the path to redemption. Angel could've saved her the trouble of taking that route.

As I stare at her, I can't help but wonder if it's weird to be here like this. To finally be the one who was saved, and to have Faith be the one to save me.

"Not at all, Buffy. She was ready to be the hero, and a hero she is." Giles replies immediately after I ask.

I think he's right.

She had finally been ready to be the hero.

And I had finally been ready to be saved.

I think we were meant to be together.


	34. Chapter 34

**Next one's the last chapter, suckers. Thanks to all of you who stuck with the story. Much love. Now...review.**

Narrative

She awakens to darkness.

But she doesn't cry anymore; she expects it.

She hears the monitor beeping in the background, past the whispering voices and shuffling papers, the gurgling coffee machine and the occasional snore.

Simple things, yet; she cherishes them.

Funny, how, one takes these things for granted.

The monitor continues to beep. Steadily, it's slowing.

_I'm dying._

She thinks. But without the morbidity that she felt before. It feels alright.

She's not so afraid anymore.

There is warmth where sunshine hits her skin. She thinks she knows where she is. She is in the upstairs loft where - she remembers - the windows reveal a magnificent view.

She wonders if they realize the irony of her placement.

The infirmary must be crowded with girls who need antiseptic, a cast, stitches...

It's alright. She prefers to be somewhere warm. Someplace where it is not so cold and desolate and unpromising.

She supposes that is here.

Her eyes blink, but it makes no difference. Her ears are always open, always active. Her nose receive scents from varying sources, and her skin can feel the cool sheets under her.

The lump in her throat won't allow her to speak. Her tongue feels flaccid against the roof of her mouth. Her lips will not open for her.

She knows she should panic.

Instead, she wonders what time it is.

She closes her eyes. She listens to her friends. She smells the delicious food wafting in the air. She feels the light breeze of the air conditioner and she feels the soft hand over hers.

Its owner is sleeping.

She smiles. At least she can do that.

_I love you, Buffy._

She hears the monitor beyond the other noises.

It flatlines.

She succumbs to darkness.

* * *

_I love you, Buffy._

She hears the voice a second too late.

It ends as soon as the monitor wails.

There are no more beeps beeps beeps.

No more life.

"Faith." Nudge the body.

"Faith." A little more desperately.

"Faith?"

Still no answer.

She jumps up and shakes the body.

But the body is dead and it will not respond, no matter how hard or fast she shakes it.

They try to pull her away, but she can't be stopped. She's still crying the name, but there can be no response.

Because the body is dead.

It hits her strangely that she cannot handle this because the body is dead and the body is Faith and that can only mean that Faith is dead, but she does not want to accept it.

She **cannot** accept it.

"She's dead, Buffy! She's dead!" Someone finally shouts.

**Finally.**

_**Finalized.**_

The body is dead and the body is Faith...

She screams.


	35. Chapter 35

**And here we are, at the end of this rather long story. Thank you readers, thank you reviewers, for keeping this alive. And there's a lovely message for all of you at the bottom after you read this final chapter of Feeling Faithless. **

**Don't forget to review.**

Funeral Day

Giles: "She was a fine Slayer, one of the best. Through everything, I had learned to respect her; to appraise her as a student as a member of our group. I only wish that I could've been a better guardian to her, but we'd learned to forgive each other for our mistakes. Faith was a friend, family, a Slayer, a hero, a teammate, and a leader. I cannot have wished a better legacy for you to leave behind. You shall be missed."

Angel: "You finally found it, Faith. Redemption. Salvation. You did it, and I don't know anyone who could be prouder for you than we are. Than I am."

Kennedy: "You're dead and I hate you for it. I'll miss you and I'll hate you for it. I cried like a fucking baby and I hated you for it. But through thick or thin and through all our abusive banter, you knew that I loved you. I'll always love you, and I'll miss you more than you'll ever know."

Willow: "When I'm nervous, I babble. I'm nervous right now, but no words will come to my mouth. They do, but they all dry up and I swallow them back down. Nothing I could say would ever make this right, and everything about her death was just plain wrong. Everybody saw you as a killer, when you never were. Now everybody sees you as dead, but I don't think you'll ever be."

Anya: "I'll never understand how this all happens. How we go through this. I mean, we knew her, and then she's- There's just a body, and I'll never understand why she just can't get back in it and not be dead anymore. It's stupid. It's mortal and stupid. And everyone's crying and hurting, and...and when it happened I was having a beer. And now, well, Faith will never have any more alcohol ever, and she'll never have fun, or dance or Slay, not ever, and it happened to Joyce, and Spike and all these people, and still, no one will explain to me why. No one **can** explain to me why."

Xander: "The world is at its peace again, and everything is fine and dandy for the rest of the world. Good prevails and evil fails, but I'm feeling a little faithless; because you took a part of everybody's heart when you died, and none of us will really feel whole again. We'll be alright. I'll be alright. But a monster out there took our Faith, and Faith, in turn, took our faith. We ended up winning; winning and faithless."

* * *

Buffy's POV

It's my turn to speak.

I step forward and stare at the face.

"I love you, too."

_I wish I had the chance to tell you before you left._

I step back and turn away; as they light the fire to the body.

* * *

Narrative

"Slayerrrr." The voice hissed in her ear, while her senses barely noticed the deathly cold fingers scraping against her likewise cold skin.

"We've been...expecting you."

Her screams echoed throughout the darkness that engulfed her.

There was something wrong in the way she died.

* * *

**So, for all you kiddies who want more, there is indeed a sequel to this piece. And along with the sequel, there are actually a lot of more pieces to be read. Anywho, the sequel is called "This Is Hell". Review for this chapter, and then go read, and review some more! Yay!**

**Thanks again, guys.**

**Lost1n7heDark**

* * *


End file.
